


Hey There, Stranger

by annie_reckson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Docking, Frottage, M/M, Minor Character Death, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Oral Sex, Rimming, Subtle Manipulation, Unsafe Sex, dark!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_reckson/pseuds/annie_reckson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott's been going to a specific spot on the beach for a few years now and now that he's on summer break from college, he's looking forward to spending most of his summer months there. </p><p>He's not sure whether he should be excited or terrified when he gets much more than he could have ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Livin' Like a Good Boy Oughta

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, I'm going to level with you. When I use the tags "dark!Stiles" and "Morally Ambiguous Stiles", I'm not messing around. The Stiles in this story is not one who grew up with a proper sense of right and wrong, despite his dad being the Sheriff. 
> 
> Of course, I hope that any readers who do decide to read this despite the warnings enjoy it for what it is, but please don't expect a happy ending from this, because I'm not promising one.
> 
> Also, due to the nature of this story (it takes place on a gay hook-up beach after all) some of the characters are actively named and some aren't. Just let me know if you have any questions!
> 
> ALSO, quick disclaimer, I have absolutely no idea if a place like this exists at Bass Lake, although it is a wonderful and picturesque place should anyone decide to ever start one there!
> 
> EDIT: Damnit, I am an absolute shitbird. As someone just reminded me, I need to make this clear as I haven't already - this fic is 100% inspired by Stranger By The Lake which is a fantastic French film that you all should see. That said, there are quite a few things that are going to be different between this fic and the film, especially the ending. So yeah, my bad for not saying this beforehand and a very sincere THANK YOU to the person who called me out on it because I definitely meant to make that clear.

The gravel parking lot is nearly full when Scott pulls in, definitely a good sign. Part of him always worries that something bad will happen to this space while he's away at college. It’s not exactly like there's a website or Facebook page that would keep him updated on the latest happenings or anything.

Most people don’t even know this place exists. Well, pretty much everyone's aware of Bass Lake, it isn’t exactly a closely-guarded secret. However, few people ever travel down the discreetly marked unpaved road back in the forest. Those that do, wind up in a scattered parking where most of the cars have either rainbow bumper stickers or ones with the equality symbol on them. There are far more liberal stickers than conservative ones, although the latter isn’t exactly unheard of, albeit rare.

Then, after a quick walk through the woods - carefully averting their eyes so as not to be too voyeuristic - they’d wind up on a picturesque beach populated solely by - mostly nude - men. Their opinion, at that point, would probably vary depending on whether or not they meant to be in this place or not. So far though, no one finds this place unless they're determinedly looking for it.

Which is what Scott likes about it.

He’d first heard rumors of the “gay beach” when he was in high school, still struggling with his identity but curious nonetheless. Growing up in Fresno, it had been the subject of hushed whispers and needling teases towards anyone a bully thought was “gay”. Only one person he knew had actually been there though - a boy his age with curly blonde hair. One night after lacrosse practice, he finally managed to get them to tell him exactly how to get there.

Once he finally turned eighteen, he’d waited until his mom went into her shift that day, then drove the hour it took to get to Bass Lake, following all the directions he’d be given. The first time he parked his bike in the unmarked lot, he‘d straddled it for fifteen minutes willing himself to enter into this world that he knew virtually nothing about. After a few pumps from his inhaler, he took one more deep breath before grabbing his towel and stepping off his bike.

The boy from his school had been there that day, not necessarily waiting for him but certainly happy to see him. They swam in the lake together briefly, then Scott was led into the seclusion of the woods by the boy - Isaac, he found out later - where he was taken care of in the secrecy granted by the trees around him. He never told the boy that it was his first blowjob by a dude, but Scott is pretty sure he knew.

After that day, Scott went back as often as his schedule allowed him. During the school year, it was usually only once a week since he was working at an internship on Saturdays. As soon as summer break hit, though, he made the drive almost every day, easily becoming a regular. He found out quickly that some of the men there gave their names without a second thought, while others insisted on remaining anonymous, even if they hooked up with him multiple times. Some days he preferred the latter, other days he liked the ersatz romanticism of knowing someone’s name when they were inside you.

Now, once again home with a whole summer ahead of him, Scott finds that he's looking forward to this the most. Well, besides getting to spend some time with his mom, but that's in an entirely different category. Sure, he’s had his fair share of hook-ups while on campus - with males, females, and one gorgeous person that informed him they considered themselves neither - but there's something about this lakeside beach that keeps him coming back. Both whimsically and literally.

This particular afternoon, he finds the beach to be a little more populated than usual and full of new faces and bodies. Scanning briefly, he notices a friend of his near the water’s edge and walks quickly over. The muscular, bearded man lying naked in his back in the sand was one of the few Scott made in his time there that he actually hung out with outside of the beach, “in the real world”. Scott went for drinks frequently with both him and his boyfriend - the equally-muscled man lying beside him with shiny dark skin - a recent addition.

In fact, he had been the first person Scott had been friends with from the beach, proof to him that you can casually have someone’s dick in your mouth, or even two dicks in your mouth, without it being awkward afterwards.

“Hey,” Scott offers with a grin once he's standing over them, “How’s the atmosphere been today?”

Derek smiles up at him and leans up on his elbows to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Hey! Back for the summer already?”

“Yeah, just got back yesterday. Looks like a lot of new faces this year."

"That's how it's been the past couple of months," Derek nods, "I'm guessing more college campuses are spreading the word."

"Good news for you though, eh?" Boyd mumbles, without opening his eyes.

"I guess," Scott shrugs, "I feel like I should get a good swim in before anything else, though."

"You can leave your stuff here," Derek offers, "We won't let anyone take it, promise!"

"Cool, thanks man!"

Without another thought, Scott strips his shirt and shoes off then practically runs to the water. It's always colder than he remembers, but he always wades in relentlessly, wanting so badly to get to the depth where he can't touch anymore.

His head bobs briefly when he gets there, before he has his bearings. Then, taking a breath, he dives into the water and starts swimming aimlessly towards the middle, letting his arms guide him. The chill of the water cuts across his skin with every stroke, a feeling he's missed along with everything else that comes with the beach.

When he's starting to feel his muscles burn, he pauses to catch his breath and turn back to check out the beach again. Not to his surprise, he can see fewer people now, most of them probably partnered up in woods behind the sand. What does catch his eye, though, is a bald man sitting off to the side by himself. Curious, Scott starts swimming towards him.

The man says nothing as Scott treads out of the water, doesn't even look his way. As he gets closer, Scott can tell now that the man has lightly bronzed skin and lips pursed in concern as he stares off into the distance.

"Hey there!" Scott shouts out once he's a few feet away.

Dark brown eyes flick over to him, “Oh, hello,” the man says, nonchalantly, wincing a smile in greeting.

Unperturbed, he’s come this far anyway, Scott gestures to the spot on the sand next to him, “Mind if I sit down?”

“Sure.”

Scott sits without hesitation, tucking his toes into the sand and leaning back on his palms. For five minutes or so, they sit in silence, Scott occasionally glancing over to make sure the man is even still there. Finally, he decides to start the conversation himself.

“Can I ask you a question?”

The man turns towards him and gives him a quizzical look, “I suppose.”

“Why are you over here by yourself?”

The man exhales loudly, “I don’t really come here for the...usual things. I mostly just enjoy relaxing by the lake.”

“So why not go to any of the other beaches? Why come here?”

He shrugs, “It’s quiet here. As long as I stay off to the side, no one really bothers me.”

“Well,” Scott cocks his head, “Probably because you don’t look very approachable, to be honest.”

He looks Scott in the eye and raises an eyebrow, “You approached me.”

Scott smiles, “Maybe I’m braver than most.”

“It seems that way.”

At that moment, Scott glances towards the lake and his attention is drawn away from conversation, because he lays eyes on the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He’s just stepping out of the water, his long, pale form completely nude and covered in moles that Scott can make out even from so far away. He runs a hand through his thick hair and continues up the beach, each muscle flexing like he’s actively trying to taunt Scott. Then, he turns his head - face full of plush lips and huge amber eyes, catches Scott’s gaze, and smiles before heading into the woods.

“I...I have to go,” Scott stammers out before hurriedly standing up.

Finding someone in the woods isn’t exactly an easy task, there are groups of men hiding behind nearly every group of trees and bushes. Scott tries to get a closer look at each one without feeling like he’s a peeping tom. With every corner he turns on the trail, he’s hoping his mystery man will be there, waiting for him.

Finally, Scott thinks he sees him, but hopes he’s wrong. Because someone that looks like him  is lying on the ground with another man’s ass in his face, looking like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. From where he’s standing, gawking, Scott can’t make out who the other man is, and he’s not sure he wants to know. Instead, he just internally prays that he’s wrong.

Right when he’s about to turn around and keep looking, his mystery man pulls back, eyes hooded with pleasure, sees Scott staring and smirks before diving back into the slightly-tanned flesh in front of him. That’s all Scott needs to see to want to leave, and he turns on his heel to head back to the beach, ignoring the attentions of the other men around him.

By the time he reaches the sand again, Derek and Boyd are packing up their things. In fact, most people seem to be heading home for the day, the beach is much more deserted than it was when he first got there. Before he reaches the two of them, he glances over and sees that the man secluded by himself is gone too.

“Welcome back,” Derek cheekily grins at him, “We’re about to head home, would you...like to come with?”

“Not today, guys,” Scott shakes his head, “I think I’m just going to hang out here a little longer. Maybe another time”

Derek claps him on the shoulders, “It’s fine, totally understood. First day back and everything.”

Scott forces a grin, “Something like that.”

While they’re leaving, he shakes his towel out on the sand and lays down on it, removing his board shorts before completely settling down. Then, he lies back and closes his eyes, just resting in the sun and trying to get the pale man out of his thoughts. After a few minutes, he realizes that his mind is too restless to just lay there and he leans up on one elbow, surveying the beach around him. Just in case.

He’s not sure how much longer he lies there, but he never sees another sign of his...his crush. He internally decides that “crush” is probably a good term for the man he saw. Although he’s not sure how he feels crushing on a man that he’s just seen so thoroughly enjoying someone else. He’s also not sure why he feels so strongly about someone he’s only seen for maybe two minutes.

It’s dusk before Scott finally stands up, pulling his clothes back on and shaking the sand off of his towel. When he looks around, there’s only a smattering of people still left, even the woods seem quieter than before. For some reason, there’s still an ember of hope in his chest that his crush will be somewhere waiting for him in the woods while he’s walking through it to leave. As it happens, he’s not completely wrong.

“Oh, hey!” A voice calls out behind him.

Scott turns, recognizing the speaker instantly and smiling, “Hey there! Have you been here all day?”

The man shrugs, somehow making his dimples more prominent, “I got here late today. Finals and all that. When did you get here?”

“This afternoon, I was just about to head out, actually.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Did you have much success today?”

“Nah,” Scott shakes his head bashfully, still smiling, “We’re not all as charming as you, dude. Although I think that Armani aftershave definitely helps.”

“Hey! It smells _really_ good, I can’t be blamed for taking advantage of that,” He laughs, his deep brown eyes twinkling.

“It does! Can’t complain.”

For a moment, they just stand there, mouths parted, staring at each other, before the other man finally says, “Maybe I could help you out today?”

Scott huffs, “C’mon, don’t let me be your charity case.”

The man chuckles, letting his finger slide up Scott’s clothed abs, “You could never be a charity case.”

Scott grabs his hand, his skin a bronzed toffee hue that Scott has always been jealous of, and tugs him closer until they’re fully in each other space. From there, he watches as the other man runs his eyes slowly down Scott’s face until he gets to his lips before flicking them back up to meet Scott’s gaze. With a smile, he grips the back of Scott’s neck and tugs him closer until their lips meet.

His kisses are soft and needy, just the way Scott remembers. It’s then that his thoughts click and the name _Danny_ finally pops into his head. Not that the man kissing him is forgettable, far from it actually, Scott just always finds it difficult try to recall the names of the men he knows after a year. But the way Danny is neatly kissing him as he pushes him back against the rough trunk of a tree is very familiar.

Suddenly, Danny’s hands are on him, lightly tracing the muscles on his sides and finally dipping his fingers beneath Scott’s shirt and brushing it upwards until Scott takes the hint and pulls it off. He allows Danny just enough time to follow suit with his garish neon tank top before pulling him back into his space. His fingers dig into the muscle of Danny’s shoulders while he loosens the ties on Scott’s board shorts, gasping when Danny dips in just enough to tangle his fingers in the coarse hair just below the waistline.

Scott tilts his hips forward and tugs his shorts down with one hand while Danny continues his teasing touches against the sensitive skin around his cock. A groan hits him in the gut when Danny runs a finger lightly along the thick vein on the underside of his cock and then squeezes the soft head, letting the precum run down his fist.

He noses against Scott’s cheek while his hand pushes down the length of his cock with just enough pressure to make Scott’s brain cease functioning. Then, he speeds up, pace increasing with each stroke until Scott has his eyes scrunched shut but his mouth hanging out, too unfocused to do anything but hold on.

Just as his hips start thrusting of their own accord, Scott feels his body tense up right before he lets himself go, spilling all over Danny’s hand and his own stomach. Scott pulls Danny against him right as the afterglow hits, needing the contact of their lips together. When he finally releases and Danny pulls away, he grabs a bandanna out of his bag and cleans his hand off, handing it to Scott after he’s done. Scott grins sheepishly as he wipes himself off, nearly feeling the need to apologize for making such a mess.

“If you want I can-” Scott offers, licking his lips.

Danny waves him away, “No, it’s fine, don’t feel like you have to, just because I, y’know.”

Scott rolls his eyes and drops to his knees in front of the handsome Hawaiian, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to,” He breathlessly gets out as he smoothes Danny’s tight trunks down his legs, eager to reciprocate.

 


	2. Oh, I Need A Witness To See The Mess I Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN. It was very difficult not to post this chapter early, but I'm trying to force myself into a Monday-Thursday posting routine. I've never really done a routine before, so let's see how it goes.

Usually, Scott tries not to go to the lake beach every day. Mostly because he wants to believe that there are better things he could be doing with his summer, but also because occasionally he gets to actually spend time with his mom. Still, he finds himself getting his stuff together the next afternoon, barely even thinking about it. He feels strange going two days in a row, but his chest tightens at the thought of seeing his crush again.

Once again Derek and Boyd are lying in the sand when he gets there, already naked with their soft cocks resting against their muscular thighs. Scott greets them briefly before noticing the stranger from the day before once again sitting apart from everyone else. Not that he’d ever admit it, but Scott has always had a curious side when it comes to people he doesn’t know. He isn’t one to talk the ear off of a random stranger, but he thoroughly enjoys learning about people he isn’t familiar with yet.

With a short wave, Scott skips past Derek and Boyd, telling them that he’ll be back in a little bit, and heads over to the stranger, who once again doesn’t take any notice of Scott headed his way. Scott doesn’t want to believe that he’s unfriendly, but his ambivalence to the beach around him only makes Scott more curious.

“Hey there,” Scott once again says in greeting.

The man squints when he looks up at him, then winces another smile before waving his hand over the sand besides him, an obvious invitation for Scott to sit down. Scott smiles in return before setting his stuff down and taking his shirt off. The man speaks while Scott gets settled.

“So, did you get your man yesterday?”

Scott raises an eyebrow, “My man?”

“You took off like a rocket,” The man chuckles dryly, “I assumed you caught up with him.”

Scott sighs, “I didn’t find him.”

“Really?” The man gives him a look, “You didn’t?”

“Okay I did, just...he wasn’t alone.”

“Hmm. Maybe you could have joined in.”

“I don’t think it was that kind of party, to be honest.”

“Too bad, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, it happens. Do you mind if I take these off?” Scott points towards his shorts.

The man shakes his head, “No, that’s fine.”

“Awesome! Thanks,” He lifts his hips and removes them in one swift motion before sitting down again, “After yesterday, I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with, y’know.”

“No, I’m perfectly comfortable with nudity. My girlfriend and I used to go to the beach across the lake at night.”

Scott nods, he’s well aware of the stories of the swingers who hang out on the other side of the lake, “So...where is she now?”

The man shrugs, “Not sure, most likely dating someone else,” He turns his head, “We broke up a few months ago.”

“Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s alright. You couldn’t have known.”

Scott lets the silence rest for a few moments before asking, “Is that why you sit over here?”

“There’s too many families at the other beaches. Too many children that like to ask questions. Here I can just sit and meditate and watch the water.”

A thought pops into Scott’s head, “Shit, should I leave? I’m intruding aren’t I? I’m so sorry-”

The man places a hand on Scott’s arm, “It’s alright, I don’t mind talking to you.”

“Okay, thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, despite that scowl of yours,” Scott grins, “I’m Scott, by the way. You don’t have to tell me your name though, I know some peo-”

“I don’t mind. I go by Deaton.”

“Deaton?”

“After people calling me by my last name for so long, I just decided to accept it.”

Scott squinted, “So are you military or... a teacher?”

“The latter. History professor actually.”

“Cool! Where at?”

Deaton tilts his head towards Scott, “I’d rather not say. Seeing as I’m sitting next to a nude man who looks about college-age on a known pick-up beach for homosexuals.”

Scott can’t help but laugh, “Alright alright, I understand.”

“Thank you in advance.”

“Although,” Scott cocks his head, “We don’t all identify as homosexual you know.”

“Well I’m sure there are plenty who are still closeted for whatever reason.”

“No, I mean...I like dudes, alright? Obviously. Or I wouldn’t be here. But I’m also very much into ladies. And apparently other genders as well, judging by recent experiences.”

“Hmm.”

“So I identify as bisexual," He points to himself, redundantly, "And a few of the guys here do, too."

"Then, if I may ask, why come here? Why not engage in the usual activities?"

Scott shrugs, "It's fun. And I still like dudes a lot. It's nice, there's no drama, no weirdness, no expectations, just-"

His attention is torn away, once again, by the tall, pale man. This time Scott’s gaze catches him just as he’s taking off his shorts and shoes to go swimming. Scott watches his long legs as he steps towards the water and dives in cleanly, barely a splash. He surfaces a second later and starts swimming, broad perfect strokes that cut through the water cleanly and effortlessly. Scott knows his mouth is hanging open, but he doesn’t care.

“Hey, will you, uh, watch my stuff?” Scott sputters out as he’s scrambling to his feet.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s diving into the water after his crush, pushing himself as hard as he can to reach him. He pauses for a second, treading water and trying to see how far ahead his mystery man is, which he immediately regrets because the dude is way far out there, further than Scott is sure he’s ever swam. Scott is no lightweight when it comes to swimming, but he knows he’s going to have to somehow drum up more effort if he wants to actually catch up to this guy.

As he continues through the water, he feels someone swim past him on his left, going in the other direction and close enough to nearly touch him. He stops again and turns back just in time to see his crush do the same thing. While Scott stares, dumbfounded, the other man smiles and waves at him, wiggling fingers that are too long and attractive to actually be real. To his embarrassment, Scott is too focused on imagining exactly where he’d like those fingers on him that he’s only able to muster a half-hearted wave back before his crush starts swimming towards the shore again.

Of course, Scott has no choice but to follow suit, especially after the man’s engaged him. He’s sitting on his towel when Scott finally makes it out of the water, elbows resting on his knees. Scott decides to take a chance and walks towards him, hoping for the best.

“You’re a really great swimmer,” Scott says, smile plastered on his face.

“Thanks,” The other man’s voice is deeper than he expected, with a sort of accent to it that Scott vaguely recognizes as Northeastern, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Sure but, not nearly as good as you are. Have you ever competed?”

“When I was younger, yeah. My dad was always busy with work, so I spent a lot of time doing various afterschool sports. Probably the only time in my life that these gangly limbs came in handy was when I found out that I was good at swimming.”

“I can tell,” Scott gestures to the sand beside him, “Mind if I sit?”

“Oh yeah, sure! Let me grab my shirt so you’re not sitting in the sand. That would be a nightmare to deal with later. Not that I’d know, it’s not like I’m always getting sand in my- let me just spread my shirt out for you.”

Scott laughs, “Thanks, I appreciate it,” He waits for him to lay the shirt down on the sand before settling on it, “I know this sounds cheesy, but do you come here a lot?”

“Umm, yeah. I guess. I really just found out about it a month ago, and I’ve been coming pretty much every day since then.”

From how close they’re sitting, Scott can see how golden amber his eyes really are and it causes him to get lost for a second, “Sorry, umm, I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you before.”

The man nods, his eyes locked on Scott’s, “And why haven’t I seen you?”

“I’ve been away, at college. Just got back day before yesterday.”

Scott may be imagining it, but it seems like the guy leans closer to him, “So I guess I’ll be seeing more of you then.”

Scott lets his eyelids droop a bit, “As much as you wan-”

“Hey! Excuse me!”

Annoyed, Scott looks up to see a young man with perfectly styled blonde hair in short trunks, standing impatiently with his hands on his hips. The dude has a smarmy expression that Scott admits he’s never found attractive. If he had to place a bet, he’d wager that this guy is the one that always parks his Porsche diagonally so no one can get near it.

“Hey you,” The pale man coyishly responds, resting his chin on his palm.

“Where have you been,” The blonde asks, “I’ve been waiting.”

"Alright, alright. Keep your shorts on - well actually, don't," He smirks as he stands and brushes sand off himself before letting himself be tugged towards the woods.

The condescending vibe that the blonde gives Scott is completely worth it when his pale crush turns around and gives him a hungry look just before he disappears behind the trees. Scott smiles to himself and almost lies back on the sand before remembering that he's still sitting on his crush's shirt. He's not sure he still wants to be there when they come back, that's a weird situation he's not willing to jump into.

Instead, Scott stands up to brush sand off, then folds the shirt neatly and sets it on the man's towel. He heads back over to where he left his things, but Deaton is nowhere to be seen, probably having already left for the day. Which, honestly, is fine, everyone kinda leaves everyone else's things alone as unspoken rule. Still, Scott checks to make sure his towel, clothes, and keys are all still there. He rests in the sun for a little bit before the heat and boredom get to be too much for him. 

There's really no reason for him to be idle, so he pulls his shorts back on and heads into the forest, because it beats sitting on the sand and pining over someone who's already...occupied. The jealous, impatient look on the blonde's face made Scott think there might be more there than just two people that casually hooked up, but he tries not to dwell on that. The beach and surrounding area is full of attractive men available to him, he doesn't see the need in continually focusing on one that seems to already have a boyfriend.

He finds, though, that while there are plenty of men walking along the trails in the woods, there’s none that really pique his interest. That is, until an older man with greying blonde hair and a scruffy beard stops him with a smile and rubs his fingers up Scott’s bicep. Scott grins as he turns towards him and takes in the rest of his figure, he’s still insanely handsome, despite probably being nearly twice Scott’s age. It’s not uncommon to see older men at the beach, and Scott’s never had a problem hooking up with dudes old enough to be his dad, as long as he finds them attractive. And it’s definitely a plus that this guy looks absolutely nothing like his crush, so he should be able to keep his mind preoccupied.

They make small talk before heading into a more secluded part of the forest. The older man lays his towel down for Scott to lie on and tugs his shirt off before leaning down to capture Scott’s mouth. Scott impatiently unbuttons the other man’s khaki shorts and pulls them off before lifting his hips and shimmying out of his own.

Once successfully free, their cocks make contact and Scott gasps happily at the friction between them. He reaches up a hand to feel the muscles on the chest of the man above him, then slides his hand up until he can get a grasp on the short hairs on the back of his neck. The man responds by pressing their lips together and holding them there, even as their hips still thrust minutely against the other.

After a beat, the older man pulls back to take a breath, “What do you want to do?” He asks, huskily.

Scott smiles, “I’d like to get my mouth on a part of you that isn’t your mouth.”

He nods quickly before narrowing his eyes, “Do you have a condom?”

“Shit. No,” Scott shakes his head.

The man above him huffs and lowers his forehead to Scott’s bare chest, “I’ve already used up all of mine this afternoon.”

“Hey,” Scott puts his finger under the man’s chin to tilt his head back up, “I mean, you’re clean right? It’s fine, I don’t mind, I’ll still do-”

“No,” He furrows his brow, “We shouldn’t. It’s not safe,” He looks away from Scott’s gaze, “I’d rather not take the chance.”

Scott sighs for a second, feeling defeated. He stupidly left his stash of condoms for the day back in the storage compartment for his bike, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to leave the situation now and go retrieve him. His so-conscious partner shifts as if he’s about to get off of Scott and incidentally causes their cocks to brush up against each other again. That gives Scott an idea.

“Hey,” Scott grabs both of his biceps, before he can leave, “There’s always this.”

While Scott holds his torso in place, above him, he thrusts his hips against the older man’s, deliberately rubbing their cocks together. The sensation causes the older man to scrunch his eyes shut and let his mouth hang open as he catches on quickly, mimicking Scott’s movements. Once he has him going along with it, Scott lets go of him with one hand and moves it between them to grasp hold of them both.

Scott tilts his head up, letting their noses brush together while he stares at the sight of their cocks enclosed and moving in his large fist. He picks up the pace when he starts to feel his orgasm building, squeezing them both tightly when his whole body seems to release, covering his belly and hand.

Grunting, Scott forces himself to keep going until he hears a choked noise from above and more wet warmth on his hand. The man above him gives him another smile and exhales loudly before chuckling a bit to himself. Scott runs a reassuring hand up and down his arm until the man takes another deep breathe and stands up.

“Thanks for that,” The man says as he started to get dressed, “That was probably the best one I’ve had all day. Honestly.”

Scott pulls his shorts up his legs and stands up to pull them the rest of the way, “Hey, it was my pleasure,” He shakes most of the dirt and leaves off the man’s towel and hands it back to him.

“Take care of yourself kid, alright?” He squeezes the ball of Scott’s shoulder, “Be careful.”

On the inside, Scott wants to roll his eyes, but instead he just grins and nods, waiting for the other man to walk away so he can hurry back to his own stuff and clean himself off. He wipes his hand on his shorts, instantly regretting it but also knowing that it’ll have to do for now. Thankfully, he finds his things left alone once again and gathers them up.

With his towel just slightly moistened with the lake water, he’s able to get his belly and chest mostly clean. Clean enough at least that he doesn’t feel gross putting his shirt back on. His plan is to go home and shower, then try to catch a drink with Derek and Boyd, but something in him makes him want to stay just a little bit longer. He takes a spot in the woods where he can roll his towel up, rest against a tree, and watch the moon rise up over the lake. It’s a truly beautiful sight.

His eyes scan over the rippling currents of the lake until he catches sight of two people swimming near the middle. From what he can see, it looks like they’re play-splashing each other,  and his chest tightens a bit at his own loneliness. He decides immediately to ignore it. If he listens hard enough, he can just barely make out the lilting sounds of their laughter drifting his way, which doesn’t make it easier.

“ _Goddamnit_ it Stilinski, that’s not funny!” 

Scott freezes. At some point, the playful nature of the interaction has stopped and Scott can plainly see one of the men pushing and trying to hold the other underwater. Both of the men are wrestling for dominance, Scott can barely tell from his position which limbs are whose. It takes a few attempts, with the other man clearly struggling, but finally Scott sees just one figure bobbing in the water.

Part of him knows that he needs to run for help, but his legs stubbornly won’t move, his arms frozen with his fingers pressed into the dirt. As he watches, the remaining member of the pair calmly swims - clean, determined strokes - back to the shore and strides out of the water. Without even a glance back at the lake, he starts towards what is clearly his pile of things sitting in the sand, next to a similar stash of items that Scott assumes belonged to the other man.

Scott tries to get a better look at the perpetrator while he’s drying himself off and has to choke down a gasp. As the moonlight hits the man’s figure, Scott can clearly make out the lithe form, pale skin, and smattering of freckles that belongs to the man he’s been crushing on for the past two days. Unable to risk his position - he is, after all, only a few dozen feet from the sand - Scott shoves his fist into his mouth and bites down to prevent any noises from escaping.

Without even a glance of hesitation towards the other man’s things, Scott watches as his crush pulls his clothes back on, completely composed, and gathers up his things before leaving the beach. Scott sits, too afraid to move, for at least another half hour before he finally manages to stand up without his legs shaking.

Slowly, carefully, he makes his way through the woods as quietly as possible, just in case anyone is still there. When he gets to the parking lot, he curses because there’s no way the pale man didn’t see his bike still there in the gravel. His hands won’t stop trembling as he tries to pull the throttle, it takes a hit from his seldom-used inhaler before he’s able to take a deep breathe and collect himself. After a few tries, he finally gets the engine going and on his way out tries not to notice the Porsche still parked diagonally.

 


	3. Bid Adieu To Your Ennui

It’s three days before Scott feels safe enough to go back to the beach. There have been a few times that he’s thought about going to the police, but he doesn’t know the names of either the victim or ~~the murderer~~ the pale man and something always stops him when he starts to head to the station to give a statement.

Instead, he fills his days by catching up on some of his reading and cleaning the house up for his mom. He tries to cook dinner, but he’s never really had a hand for anything too fancy. One night, after failing to make a decent carbonara sauce, he ends up just ordering pizza for the two of them. Which his mom doesn’t seem to mind a bit, and that he can understand.

In the end, it’s a few worried texts from Derek - _Hey, authorities found a body in the lake yesterday/ They haven’t identified it yet and well/ Boyd and I haven’t seen or heard from you in a couple of days/ Just wanted to make sure you were alright_ \- that finally convinces Scott to head back. As he’s packing up his towel, water bottle, condoms, and a few snacks, he realizes that he’s not sure whether he wants his crush to be there or not. There’s a part of him that’s still undeniably attracted to him and Scott isn’t sure what to do with that. At best, he teases himself that there might be an explanation - self-defense, whatever - that explains everything.

It isn't that big of a shock when the parking lot is nearly deserted when he gets there. Unsolved drowning death is the type of bad news can keep people away much longer than Scott’s mini-sabbatical. His gut tightens when he sees the Porsche still there, but he resolutely walks past it, trying to push the guilt to the back of his mind.

Since there are so few people on the beach, Scott finds Derek and Boyd easily, resting in the sun as usual. Once he greets them, they immediately jump up and bearhug him, with Boyd nearly cracking his spine from the pressure. He’s not sure how to tell him that he doesn’t really deserve their concern. All their worry does is make him feel worse about the whole ordeal. He makes up an excuse to get away so he can clear his head.

Luckily, Deaton is sitting in his usual spot, so Scott heads over there and sits down. Deaton is quiet while Scott gets settled, but he looks at him curiously nonetheless. This time, though, Scott waits for Deaton to start the conversation, content to simply get lost looking at the waves while he waits.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“It’s only been three days. Not everyone comes every day.”

Deaton shrugs, “Still. Seems strange considering what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just saying that I find it interesting the coincidence of you being conspicuously absent when a body is found in the lake.”

Scott narrows his eyes, “You think I had something to do with it.”

Deaton shakes his head, “No. But I think you know something about it.”

“I’m sure I know as much as anyone else.”

“I don’t believe that,” Deaton frowns, “There’s definitely something bothering you today.”

Scott sighs, “I’m just tired.”

“Tired? Your summer break just started.”

“And it already feels overwhelming.”

“Perhaps you should try meditation. Lie down in the sun awhile and let your mind rest. As long as you have sunscreen.”

“Yeah,” Scott glances back over at the spot next to Derek where he left his stuff, “That’s not such a bad idea.”

“Let me know how it goes. I think you might even be surprised by how much better you’ll feel,” He slaps his hands on his knees, “Anyways, I think I might head out early. I’m not sure I’m willing to sit through the heat today.”

Scott rises with him, “Thanks, Deaton.”

“Anytime, Scott,” Deaton gives him a small smile and turns to leave.

A slight breeze blows Scott’s bangs around as he watches Deaton leave. Only when the older man is out of his sight does Scott finally head back to his friends. He removes his shorts and shirt before he even unrolls his towel, something in him itching to be freed from the fabric. Once he’s settled, his eyes are barely closed before Derek squeezes his hand.

“Hey,” Derek starts, softly, “I just want you to know that we’re just glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” Scott smiles, even though he’s pretty sure Derek’s resting his eyes, too.

“Who’s that guy?” Boyd asks, his voice muffled by his forearm slung across his face.

Scott shrugs, once again probably pointlessly, “His name is Deaton. He’s nice, interesting to talk to.”

“You like him?” Derek asks.

“Not like that.”

“Hmm.”

Scott leaves it like that, because it’s the truth. He enjoys spending time with Deaton, but he could never see them furthering their relationship past a strictly platonic one. There’s something about the older man that causes Scott to see him as more of mentor than a sexual partner.

For what it’s worth, Scott does take Deaton’s advice and tries to meditate. Every time his mind travels back to the image of the blonde man being pushed under the water, Scott tries to flush it away and replace it with different memories, usually those of his childhood. He tries to think of his mom, of her teaching him to surf for the first time when he was still in grade school, during the summer vacation after his dad left and they stayed at a cheap motel near the beach for a week while his dad moved his stuff out. Vacations were shorter after that, mostly because his mom worked so much, so that one always sticks in his mind, more than trips to the mountains or amusement parks.

In the end, he more or less just ends up taking a regular nap, shifting around on his towel as he drifts off and no doubt getting sand all over himself. He’s vaguely aware of Derek and Boyd packing up their things and ruffling his hair as they leave, but his mind is so out of focus that he can’t be sure. In his dreams he's a merman, in his dreams he's swimming aimlessly, just living life as a merman, until he comes across a bloated corpse with blonde hair flowing in the currents.

He wakes up with a start, groggily, and realizes that he’s alone on the beach. Well, not exactly alone. Strolling towards him while the sun is setting, completely nude and dripping with lake water like he’s just come back from a swim, is his pale man. With his new vantage point, Scott can definitely tell that he is pretty big and definitely uncut. Check and check. Scott locks eyes with him as he smirks and continues walking until he’s right in front of Scott.

“Mind if I share your towel?” He asks, his voice husky and slightly out of breath.

Scott scoots over in a haste, “No worries, man. Have a seat.”

“Thanks,” He gives Scott a cocky smile as he drags a hand through his wet hair and sits down next to him, “You were missing there for a little bit, bud, you okay?”

Scott’s breath catches, “You noticed?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles and shifts closer.

“I uh, I just had some stuff at home to take care of.”

“So did you?”

“Did I what?’

“Take care of it.”

“Yeah.” Scott lets out, nearly breathless when he realizes how close they are.

“Good,” The man gives him a smile, his eyes shifting between Scott’s eyes and lips, “Did you come alone today?”

Scott cocks his head, “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head, “There’s that guy you’re always talking to, I just assumed...”

“No, we’re nothing like that.”

“Good,” He leans in but Scott pulls back.

“What about your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have one of those, either.”

“What about the,” Scott tries to hold his voice steady, “The blonde guy the other day?”

“Oh him?” He laughs, “That’s just a casual thing.”

“So he wouldn’t be upset if he saw us?”

“He won’t.”

His crush smiles again before leaning in and successfully pressing his lips against Scott’s, this time, Scott lets him. The part of him that wants to fight against it is soundly drowned out by the sweet way he’s being kissed. He’s not sure what he expected, although usually kisses on the beach are fervent and rushed, something to do while you’re taking your shorts off, a precursor to something else rather than an event in themselves.

The way he’s being kissed though, is a revelation. Soft lips are pressing against his slowly, patiently, focusing first on his top lip then his bottom. There’s just a hint of tongue there, a slight tip that licks on the underside of his lips rather than trying to claim his mouth. Scott feels dizzy and they’ve only just started.

He tries his best to keep up, wanting to feel more pressure from the warm mouth driving him crazy. Fingers slowly climb across his shoulder until they’re tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. A sweet moan escapes him when the kiss is deepened, still slow and unhurried, but now with more tongue and deep groans coming from his partner. Scott is tempted to reach a hand down to palm himself, but instead runs his hand up the jawline of his pale companion.

Scott presses their lips together firmly then bites gently at his partner’s bottom lip before pulling away, “You’re a really great kisser.”

The man smiles, his eyes dazed, “That’s not the only thing I’m good at.”

Scott feels like he’s in a trance as he watches the other man slide down his body, eyes locked on his the whole time, until his head is in Scott’s lap. He winds his long fingers around Scott’s cock and pumps it a few times before taking in the soft head of his cock while still maintaining eye contact. The tip of his tongue licks along the slit a few times before he goes down further, pressing his tongue firmly against the underside of his dick and finally closing his eyes.

Just like the kisses, he does this languidly, like he’s trying to savor every taste and texture and detail. Occasionally, he’ll pull off slowly and look Scott in the eye before taking him back in his mouth. In the beginning, Scott tries to stay propped up on his elbows so he can watch the way his wet, unkempt hair looks while he’s bobbing along his length, but it’s only a few minutes before his arms start to shake and he has to lie back.

The damp heat of his mouth is tight, Scott can feel suction like he wants to suck every drop out of him. Scott knows he’s close, can feel the tingling start in his groin, but it’s when he’s taken down to the root and held there, with strong hands bracketed on Scott’s thighs, that he loses it.

“Hey I’m about to-” Scott tries to warn.

But his pale man just shakes his head and hums in response, sending vibrations along his cock that shock him into an orgasm that has his back bowing off the sand. He cries out loudly, forgetting to worry that other people might be around. Not really caring if anyone hears him.

“You weren’t lying,” Scott pants out when he hears his pale crush pull off with a slick noise.

“Now why would I lie about something like that?” He hovers over Scott and slings his leg over to straddle his hips.

Scott hisses at the contact on his sensitive groin, but relaxes as the other man slowly lowers himself until his cock is resting at the top of Scott’s thigh. He leans down until their noses are almost touching, then gently starts thrusting against Scott’s skin. Still feeling too pliable to do much of anything, Scott’s barely able to move his hands up to the man’s sides to pull him closer.

The movement on his body is slick as the combination of sweat, lake water, and come mix together between their skin. At first Scott is too busy looking down at the stranger’s cock leisurely gliding against his skin, occasionally spurting precome that mixes with the mess he’s already made, but then he looks up and catches his pale man gazing at him, pupils blown beyond measure. After that, Scott can’t help but gaze back, fingers sliding up the other man’s back until he can dig them into his shoulders.

He holds on and lets himself be used, bucking his hips occasionally to encourage the man to thrust against him faster. Suddenly, the dark amber eyes above him scrunch shut and Scott starts to feel warm liquid across his abdomen just as the pale man’s face tilts down. Scott moves his head until he can capture the other man’s lips in a rough kiss, swallowing down his grunts and moans. Once the man above him finally relaxes, Scott moves to kiss the constellation of moles trailing across his face.

Exhaling loudly with a smile, the stranger moves Scott’s hands until they’re intertwined with his and sits up in his lap. There’s a beat where they just stare at each other, taking in the flush that’s covering their chests and the way their bellies expand and contract as they try to steady their breathing. Scott can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and pliant in somebody else’s hands.

His crush brings one of their joined hands up to kiss Scott’s knuckles, “I need to leave soon, are you staying much longer?”

“Nah,” Scott sighs out, “It’s starting to get dark and I hate walking through the woods in the nighttime.”

“So you don’t stay this late often?”

Scott shakes his head, “Not usually.”

The man clambers off of him, “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car and keep you safe from any boogeymen hiding out there.”

“Thanks,” Scott laughs as he pulls his shirt on, “I drive a motorcycle, though.”

The man freezes for a second before continuing to get dressed, “Oh. You do?”

It’s a beat before Scott remembers, and his stomach plummets, “Yeah, umm...My mom isn’t crazy about it, but I’ve been riding it since high school.”

There’s a moment of uncertainty when they’re both standing, fully clothed, and Scott tries to hide the worry on his face. Even if the pale stranger doesn’t connect the dots now, he certainly will once they get to the parking lot. Scott isn’t ready for this to happen so soon after they were blissfully happy.

Thankfully, a smile breaks out on the stranger’s face and he claps a hand to Scott’s shoulder, “That’s cool man, I’ve never been brave enough to actually ride one. It’s just been me and my Jeep since I got my license.”

For the moment, the confrontation in the air dissipates and Scott follows the other man as he heads into the woods. They don’t talk much as they make their way along the trail, there’s only soft smiles and Scott being tenderly tugged along by his pointer and ring fingers. It’s as if the few seconds of hostility never happened, or were all in Scott’s head, and it allows Scott to fully go back to the way he felt lying on the sand holding hands with the man he’s been lusting after.

When they get to the parking lot, they part with a brief kiss and promises to see each other the following day. Scott watches with a smile as his crush heads to a teal covered Jeep and hops inside. He’s just about to pull his helmet on when he gets called back.

“Hey,” The man calls from the Jeep and waves Scott over, “I’m sorry, I forgot to get your name.”

“I’m Scott,” He grins, unable to help it.

“Well hello Scott, I’m Stiles.”

Scott runs his hand along the one resting on the door of the Jeep, “It is very nice to meet you, Stiles.”

“Likewise,” Stiles smiles, “Now hurry up and get home before something comes out of the woods and gets you. I want you in one piece tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright. Okay.”

Stiles gives him one more hungry look before driving off. There are so many mixed emotions in Scott’s gut, he chooses to ignore any but the most happy ones, at least for right now. As the taillights of the Jeep fade out of his view, he revs the engine of the motorcycle and follows suit.


	4. Open You Up Like Christmas

Not surprisingly, Scott is able to follow right behind Stiles all the way to the interstate. Given the late hour and the relative emptiness of the roads in general, Scott should have expected it, but he enjoys keeping the turquoise Jeep in his sights regardless.

He’s glad he’s wearing his helmet, though, because he can’t keep a stupid grin off of his face during his entire ride, and he’s not sure if he wants Stiles to see that when he looks in his rearview mirror. It might be a bit weird for him, after all. There’s no way he could know how badly Scott had wanted exactly what they’d shared together. Just like there was no way he could know the self-control it took for Scott to keep from pressing his fingers against the tingling in his lips every time they stopped for a red light.

Once they’re on the interstate, Scott loses sight of him almost instantly, lost amidst the presence of actual traffic. It doesn’t really matter though, his whole body is still abuzz at the idea of getting to see Stiles again. Or rather, of Stiles openly wanting to see him again. Scott licks his lips, trying to catch any trace that might be left, and races home.

 

-

 

Scott is practically bouncing out of his skin the next morning, counting down until the clock reaches a reasonable time for him to leave. Every time he checks his phone, it’s a harsh reminder that he forgot to ask Stiles for his number. Not a mistake he’s about to make again. He ends up leaving his house a little earlier than he planned, propelled by sheer anticipation of having his hands on Stiles again.

When he parks his bike in the lot, he’s more than a little disappointed when he doesn’t see the Jeep there. Instinctively, he knows it’s because he’s pretty early, but he’d been hoping Stiles would already be there. The Porsche is still there, but he tries not to focus on it.

In fact, once he steps foot on the sandy beach, he realizes that he’s way earlier than pretty much everyone else. Not even Derek and Boyd have made their appearance yet. There is a familiar face though, in his usual spot apart from where everyone else congregates. Scott smiles once he sees Deaton and hurries over to sit down. He feels comfortable enough with Deaton by now that he doesn’t even feel the need to ask.

Deaton gives him a cursory look, “You look rather happy today.”

“Well,” Scott grins and bites his lip, “Last night was a really good night.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! You remember the guy from uh...the other day?”

“Do you mean the swimmer?”

“Uh, yeah I guess.”

“That you unsuccessfully chased into the woods then somewhat successfully chased in the lake?”

“Yeah! Him!”

“So?”

“Well last night we uh....” Scott raises his eyebrows.

“Hmm. Well, good for you, then. Seems you got invited to the party after all.”

Scott stretches his feet out, spreading his toes, “Yeah, it’s pretty great actually. He’s supposed to be here today, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Well, it’s early still, not to mention those seem to be keeping people away,” Deaton points towards a speedboat sailing past them.

“Have there been a lot of them?”

“I’ve seen at least three each day I’ve been here since they found the body.”

Scott feels his body go cold, “So they...what are they looking for?”

Deaton shrugs, “I assume they’re just making sure there aren’t any more bodies down there.”

“Have you heard anything about a suspect or...anything?”

“Not yet,” Deaton shakes his head, “But I’m sure they’ll send someone down here to start talking to people.”

“You think so?”

“I think it’s pretty inevitable.”

“Damn,” Scott exhales.

“You sound worried,” Deaton gives him a scrutinizing glance.

“It’s not that, it’s just,” Scott shakes his head, “This is supposed to be such a peaceful place and it just sucks that -” He stops abruptly when Stiles walks into his line of sight, “Hey I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

Scott gathers up his bundle without waiting for a reply and rushes over to the spot in the sand where Stiles is dumping his things. He looks wonderfully rumpled, with his hair mussed and his shirt wrinkled, like he woke up and threw on the first thing he found in excitement to see Scott. At least that’s what Scott likes to imagine.

“Hey you,” Scott says with a crooked grin on his face.

Stiles looks up at him with a playful gaze, “Hey! I see that you were able to tear yourself away from your boyfriend.”

Scott rolls his eyes, “Already told you, we’re not like that. He’s a little lonely, and nice to talk to.”

“Sure, I bet,” Stiles raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips, “Look, I know this probably sounds ridiculous and definitely too forward but umm...” He rubs a hand against the back of his neck, “I honestly have been thinking about you pretty much all night and right now I would really love nothing more than to take you into the woods and have my way with you.”

“Really?” Scott spouts out, eyes wide.

“It’s really early for that, isn’t it? That’s fine, we can just hang out for a bit here and maybe go swimming or something first.”

“No, that’s fine,” Scott smiles, grabbing Stiles’s hand, “That’s really fine actually. I am absolutely okay with that, dude.”

Stiles reaches down to grab his towel with his spare hand and pulls Scott into the woods after him. Being that it’s early afternoon the sunlight feels refreshing and warm through the trees, rather than thick and muggy. There’s hardly any sound around them, save for a few branches snapping as other people make their way to the beach.

They find an enclosed spot, shielded from most eyes by a tree’s low hanging branches. Scott pulls off his shirt without second-guessing it and spreads the towel out on the ground, lying down and encouraging Stiles to do the same. Once they’re side-by-side, Scott is struck once again by how brilliantly the sunlight brings out the tones of gold and amber in Stiles’s eyes. It’s not something he thinks he could ever get tired of gazing on.

Stiles teases him briefly by lightly rubbing their noses side-to-side before finally closing the distance and pressing their lips together. This time is possibly even better than the first, with Scott tasting traces of coffee and the sweetness that is probably maple syrup from pancakes that Stiles had for breakfast. Scott thinks to himself, as he lazily deepens the kiss and lets his tongue slowly brush up against Stiles’s and around the inside of his mouth, that he really wants to make Stiles pancakes.

The idea of Stiles freshly woken, limbs loose from sleep, and drowsily sitting at the kitchen counter while Scott cooks him breakfast is insanely attractive to him. He shifts to lay flat on his back and pulls Stiles with him, their mouths still exploring, tugging one of Stiles’s hands onto his belly to encourage him to touch him.

In an instant, long fingers are splayed across his abdomen, pressing into his muscles and sliding up and down his chest. Stiles inhales sharply as he feels the results of the effort Scott goes into to make himself look good. While his mind is occupied, Scott takes the opportunity to swoop his hands underneath Stiles’s baggy t-shirt and pull it off, breaking away from their kiss just long off to get it over Stiles’s head.

He goes to dive back in but Stiles dips his head, running his tongue along the thick vein in his neck before biting kisses along his shoulder and back up to his jawline. The hand not holding Stiles above Scott is still roaming over Scott’s body, currently focused on rubbing against one of his nipples. Scott’s fingers clutch helplessly at Stiles’s back and in his hair, both anchoring and pleading with him.

After thoroughly exploring Scott’s jawline, Stiles moves to hover right over him, “Hey you,” He gasps out, his eyes flicking all over Scott’s face.

“Hey there,” Scott grins.

Stiles plucks at Scott’s board shorts, “Mind if I get rid of these?”

“Only if you get rid of these, too,” Scott runs his hands slowly down Stiles’s body until his fingers rest on his swimming trunks.

“Yeah, yeah, that is very doable.”

Stiles lifts up so he’s straddling Scott and makes quick work of the laces on his shorts, loosening them up enough that Scott can just lift his hips and push them off, Stiles tugging them the rest of the way. Then he stands up to get rid of his own, tossing them into the growing pile of discarded clothing next to Scott’s feet.

Before he climbs back on top of him, Scott takes the chance to fully appreciate all the long lines and taut muscle on Stiles’s body. Until now, he’s only seen it far away, or in lowlight, never displayed right in front of him and never where he can see nearly every mole gracing his lean frame. In his head, he makes a goal to have his mouth on every single one at least once.

His fingers trace the slight curves of Stiles’s chest as he settles back over Scott’s body, spreading Scott’s legs apart so he can kneel between them. While he’s not sure how to vocalize it without sounded weird, Scott finds that he really likes the contrast between his tanned flesh and Stiles’s pale fingers rubbing up and down his chest.

They exchange small, open smiles before Stiles ducks his head to nuzzle along Scott’s jawline. Scott tips his head back and lets Stiles’s hands explore his body, short nails dragging along his surging belly and gripping the muscles of his thighs. While one hand is rubbing a soothing pattern along his leg, the other dips between and slides its way down his sensitive skin until it finds his small opening. Scott jerks a bit when it happens and Stiles’s head snaps up with wide eyes.

“Is that okay? Are you okay? Sorry I probably should have asked or something before I-”

“It’s okay,” Scott exhales out with a smile, “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“So I can...?”

“Oh yeah, definitely yes.”

“Okay, yeah, good,” Stiles worries his bottom lip between his teeth and grins playfully down at Scott.

Bracing a hand on Scott’s chest, Stiles sits up again, this time reaching behind him for his shorts. It offers Scott a gorgeous view of the breadth of Stiles’s stretched muscles. Instinctively, he grabs Stiles’s sides, kneading his thumbs into the firm skin. Stiles groans a bit at his touch, rolling his hips unconsciously and tipping his head back a bit, showcasing the expanse of his long throat. Unable to resist, Scott moves one hand behind him so he can lean up and get his teeth on the tendons so expressly displayed.

At the contact, Stiles’s mouth falls open and he wraps an arm around Scott’s back, encouraging him to continue. Scott presses his teeth into the skin, nipping bits all along his throat before soothing them over with the flat of his tongue. Stiles is still moaning and thrusting minutely against him, as if he can’t handle what Scott’s doing to him.

“Fuck, Scotty,” Stiles spreads a hand across Scott’s chest and gently pushes him away, “What you are doing is amazing and you are giving me so many ideas, but I really don’t want to come yet.”

Scott pretends to pout as he lies back down, “Oh really?”

Stiles holds up a couple of rectangular foil packets, “Not quite yet at least.”

With a smirk, he opens one of the packets and spreads the slick lube on his fingers. Watching Scott’s expression, his hand dips again between his legs and rubs against his opening. This time when Scott gasps, Stiles just grins and presses in, working his finger into the relaxed muscle.

Scott sighs happily and closes his eyes as he lets his head tip back. His skin feels like it’s tingling all over and he can feel himself loosening as Stiles slides his finger all in the way, twisting it a little as he pulls it back. There’s a moment where Stiles pauses and runs his free hand along Scott’s chest, waiting for permission to continue. Scott nods fervently from his resting position.

By now, Scott knows to expect the burn when a second finger is added, just like he knows that it’ll be over sooner rather than later. Even with Stiles’s careful ministrations and long, gorgeous fingers, there is still a bit of pain when he pushes in with two digits, but nothing that isn’t over a mere few seconds after it’s happened. And then Scott is able to focus again on how fantastic it feels having Stiles inside of him.

He’s panting openly now, barely able to contain his arousal or the blush that’s starting to cover his chest. Stiles is pressing small kisses on Scott’s clavicle and the hollow of his throat while spreads his fingers inside of him, tenderly opening him up. Just when he thinks it’s as amazing as it’s going to get, Stiles crooks his fingers and grazes them along a spot inside of him that has Scott yelping and seeing sparks behind his eyelids.

Stiles chuckles lightly and pulls back to add more lube. When he comes back down, he noses along Scott’s ear as he pushes in with three fingers. With the added lube, Scott barely feels the extra stretch. After a few seconds to allow himself to fully adjust, Scott pushes back against Stiles slowly, aching for more contact.

“You’re so good for me Scotty,” Stiles purrs into his ear, “You look so pretty like this.”

Scott preens under the attention, choking out a gasp.

“So wrecked just from my hand, aren’t you Scotty?”

Scott nods quickly, just as Stiles starts to increase his pace.

“I bet you could come just from this, couldn’t you?”

“Fuck,” Scott pants out, “Maybe. Maybe, yeah.”

Stiles trails his tongue around the shell of Scott’s ear and tugs on the lobe, letting out a small laugh when he releases it. He shifts forward for better leverage, his palm spread wide just beside Scott’s head. For his part, Scott pulls his legs up until his feet are flat on the ground to provide better access. Stiles smiles at him appreciatively and starts rocking into him with more force, curling his fingers with each drag and driving Scott crazy with want.

Every nerve in his body feels dulled except for the ones Stiles is touching, where his lips and hot breath are touching his neck, where his hot skin is searing Scott’s legs, and especially every spot inside of him that Stiles’s fingers can reach. He bucks his hips violently, just needing a bit more, just the slightest bit more, to be able to release. To his pleasure, Stiles meets his rhythm, letting them slam together while Stiles’s hand fucks him at an alarming rate.

Then, as if he can sense from the guttural moans and tensing of his abdomen that Scott is close, Stiles lifts up his free hand and drags his fingers feather-light down Scott’s cock. Scott knows he should be embarrassed that’s all it takes to send him over the edge, but at that moment he doesn’t care, too blissed out on the endorphins rushing through his brain. When his synapses finally settle back down, he barely registers Stiles pressing soft kisses all down his chest, lingering over the spots where Scott’s come landed.

“Mmm...Scotty,” Stiles grins widely at him, “You are so pretty when you come. Last night I couldn’t really tell because it was so dark, but now in the daylight...fuck...I could probably come from just watching you come.”

Scott’s face is starting to hurt from smiling so much, “Really?”

Stiles’s eyebrows twitch, “Fuck yes, dude.”

“I think I’d really like to see you come in the daylight, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles’s face is open, but there’s a smirk twitching one side of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Scott grabs onto Stiles’s thighs and tugs, “Maybe you should get up here so I can make that happen.”

“Holy fuck,” Stiles’s eyes widen, “You mean you want me to...”

Scott tries to settle his face into his most serious expression, “I want you to ride my face until you come in my hair.”

“Well, when you put it like that...”

Stiles cuts himself off, dipping his head to seal his mouth over Scott’s, kissing him messily. All pretense of calm and steady is lost, abandoned in favor of lips slick with spit and tongues licking along teeth. It seems like all of Stiles is in motion as he kisses Scott, grinding sinuously against him and digging his fingers into the dirt and leaves beside Scott’s head. Every thought in Scott's head is a repeated mantra of _Want Want Want_.

When Stiles pulls back, his eyes are dark with pupils blown wide, staring at Scott like he's the most delicious thing Stiles has ever seen. The air is thick between them, causing Scott’s breath to hitch when he tries to inhale. Scott runs his hands up Stiles’s sides, dragging his thumbs against the fevered skin and goosebumps.

“You are...” Scott shakes his head, “So gorgeous.”

Stiles smiles nervously and blushes, somehow, even more, “I guess so, if you find 147 pounds of pale skin and bones attractive.”

“Lucky for you, that is exactly what I'm interested in,” Scott states, “There’s a problem, though.”

“Oh,” Stiles’s eyes widen, “There is?”

“Yeah...” Scott moves his hands down Stiles’s thighs, “Because right now your knees are right here, when they should be,” He bends his arms to pat the dirt on either side of his face, “Right here.”

Stiles sucks in air through his teeth, a small whine escaping, then finally starts to move up Scott’s body, Scott’s hands firmly guiding him until his thighs are pressing against Scott’s ears. Reaching up, Scott starts as high on Stiles’s back as he can reach, gliding his fingers down until he reaches the the squishy mounds of Stiles’s ass. He squeezes them and gently spreads them apart to fully expose every part of him.

He starts out slowly, barely-there kitten licks against Stiles’s opening, just enough to have him gasping above Scott with every contact. Then, inhaling deeply, Scott lets go of himself, eager to taste every part of Stiles. At first he focuses on rimming him, using his tongue to slowly relax his muscle until Scott can just barely insert the tip in, letting it swirl around the outer edge. His hands grasp onto Stiles’s hips, encouraging him to shift back and forth against his mouth. Laying his tongue flat along the sensitive skin, he pauses for a moment and lets Stiles’s hips jerk against him, dragging it over and over across his hole.

Scott puckers his lips and presses against it, chasing it as Stiles continues to move. After running his tongue over his area one last time, coating it with his saliva, Scott tilts his head up until he’s nosing Stiles’s balls apart. He takes the opportunity to breathe deeply, savoring the musky scent, then circles his tongue around one testicle, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. Satisfied by the pleased noises he’s hearing above him, he releases it and licks the other, dragging his tongue against the loose skin and fitting his lips over it.

On the side of his face, his skin warms at the heat from Stiles’s cock and he can feel the wetness from the precome dribbling out near the top of his head. He notices when Stiles’s moves become more erratic, like he’s nearly there, and Scott wants more than anything to make him undone. One hand releases Stiles’s side and grabs one of his hands, tugging it until his fingers are gripping Scott’s hair. The other moves between his cheeks, pressing slightly into his opening while Scott moves his tongue deliriously around the base of Stiles’s dick and the very top of his balls.

If the chorus of “Fucks” coming from above him, increasing in intensity, isn’t enough of an indication, the thick warmth that in an instant spills across his follicles is a dead giveaway. Stiles crumples, his fingers spread across the forest floor as he empties, jolting with each spurt. Scott presses small kisses to the skin he can reach and runs his fingers down Stiles’s shaking arms until Stiles is finally able to move. He flops down beside Scott, scooting down until they’re parallel, and throws an arm over his eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles pants out, “You are...something.”

Scott sits up to grab his shirt and wipe it through his hair, knowing it won’t completely get the job done, but it’ll be enough for now. It won’t be the first time he knows he’ll have dried come flakes in his hair, although it’s always been worth it in his eyes. Right now, it’s definitely worth it seeing the spaced-out look in Stiles’s eyes.

“Just ‘something’, huh?” Scott teases.

Stiles playfully punches him, his arms too wobbly for it to be more than a slight touch, “You know what I mean. That tongue is sinful, dude.”

Scott flushes, “Umm...thank you?”

“Please,” Stiles huffs, “I should be thanking whoever taught you to do that.”

They lie there for awhile, resting in the afternoon sun and intermittently chatting. Mostly, they share details about themselves, Scott tells Stiles about his mom raising him, how important she is, how he wishes he could spend more time with her, if only she didn’t work as much. Stiles tells him that he can relate, his dad also working long hours, also raising him alone. Scott doesn’t ask about Stiles’s mom and Stiles doesn’t ask about Scott’s dad. It’s nice.

Stiles turns his head to face Scott, “Wanna head back to the beach? Swim a bit?”

Scott hesitates for a second before grinning, “Yeah, absolutely!”

There’s a playfulness as they gather their things, Stiles jostling Scott with his hip when he bends over to pick up his shorts, Scott tugging on Stiles’s shirt while he’s trying to put it on. It causes something to bloom in Scott’s chest, as much as he wants to ignore it, pretend that he’s not this far gone. The last thing he wants is to chase Stiles away with feelings that are too strong, too soon.

When they get back to their mess of possessions on the beach, Derek and Boyd are set up nearby, no doubt recognizing Scott’s belongings. Stiles seems to waver slightly when he sees them, wary of going forward. It takes Scott a few steps to notice, and he turns back and gives Stiles a curious look when he does, but Stiles just smiles shyly and moves to catch up with him.

“Hey guys,” Scott greets the two of them with a smile, “Watching my stuff for me, huh?”

Derek grins at him, “Hey man! We thought your towel looked familiar. Looks like you’ve been busy,” He cocks an eyebrow at the two of them.

“Umm...yeah, a little bit,” Scott feels his cheeks heat up, “This is Stiles by the way,” He wraps an arm around Stiles’s waist.

“Nice to meet you Stiles,” Derek leans up on his elbows, “I’m Derek and that’s Boyd,” Boyd murmurs a greeting.

“Yeah,” Stiles fidgets, “I’ve seen you two together, just never came over. You seemed very....together.”

“We are,” Derek confirms, “But we’re always looking for joiners, right Scott?”

Stiles’s eyes widen, “Good to know.”

Scott releases Stiles’s waist to link their fingers together, “We’re going to go for a swim, you two wanna join?”

Boyd shakes his head, “Nah man, we just got out of the lake. It’s extra warm today for some reason.”

"No worries, dudes,” Scott grins, “Maybe later.”

“Oh!” Derek’s eyebrows rise, “Before you jump in, your phone has been going off for the past twenty minutes or so. I was going to check but, y’know, privacy.”

“Cool! Thanks man,” He squeezes Stiles’s hand, “I’m just gonna check real quick. Could be important.”

His phone is wrapped up in his towel, a slight precaution both against sand and should anyone on the beach get grabby. When he unlocks the screen, he sees multiple texts from his mom, letting him know that she managed to get a night off for once and wanting to know if he’d be home when she got there. He smiles involuntarily, the two of them haven’t had more than a few hours together since he got back.

Stiles gives him a knowing look, “You need to head out, bud?”

Scott nods, “Yeah, my mom’s actually going to be home all night. She’s probably going to be home in a couple of hours, I should get going. “

“That’s cool, man, I totally understand.”

“I should rinse off first at least,” Scott looks down at himself, “Not sure if I want to ride home in this state."

Stiles purses his lips, “Yeah, that could get uncomfortable. But I can definitely help you with the cleaning process.”

Looking at his phone reminds Scott, “Oh hey, before we do that, I need to get your number! I, um, meant to get it last night but forgot.”

“Good idea, Scotty,” Stiles reaches his hand out for the phone, typing in his number and saving, “There we go, you just need to text me when you have a chance.”

“I will,” Scott grins, “First I need to get that rinse in before I leave.”

“Of course,” Stiles looks at mischievously, “Race you there?”

Scott rolls his eyes, “Really? That’s a little bit childish-”

He grunts as Stiles gives him a slight push before sprinting towards the water. Shaking his head, Scott follows suit, knowing that he won’t win with the headstart Stiles gave himself. Still, it’s worth it seeing the look of pure glee on Stiles’s face when Scott joins him in the water. They splash each other in the waist-deep water and when Stiles stumbles, Scott takes advantage and jumps on top of him, wrestling until their knees are shifting on the wet sand.

Their hands are clasped together while each tries to overcome the other until Stiles surprises Scott by leaning forward and pressing their mouths together, catching Scott completely off-guard. He melts into the kiss easily though, his mind racing out of control just from the small contact. When they part, Stiles is smiling at him sweetly.

Then, he deliberately ruins the moment by shaking his wet hair all in Scott’s face. Scott laughs and shields his face from the watery onslaught. When he feels like it’s safe to look, he opens his eyes and loses himself in the exuberant, open look on Stiles’s face as he runs his tongue around his lips then sticks it out at Scott.

That’s when he knows he’s hooked. That’s when he knows he’s fucked.


	5. I'm Gonna Tell The Whole World That You're Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, obviously the posting schedule went out the window. In my defense, September was a crazy busy month for me. Weddings, birthdays, an increased work schedule (doubled, actually), and my laptop breaking all created the perfect scenario for my writing progress to kinda fizzle a little bit. So here's the next chapter, a month later than it should have been. I think it's longer than usual, though, so maybe that makes up for it....a bit?

Dinner with his mom is amazing, as expected. It’s always better when they can cook together, or rather, when his mom can do most of the cooking and Scott tries to help. She’s a much better cook than he is, although still not as capable in the kitchen as his abuela. At this rate, he’s pretty sure that if he ever has a kid, they’ll probably be unable to use a microwave properly.

“So,” His mother quirks an eyebrow at him while she’s chopping vegetables, “I’ve been so busy running in and out since you’ve been back, I haven’t even had a chance to ask you how school’s been.”

“This past semester was pretty intense,” Scott twists from where he’s rinsing clams in the sink, “I think I spent four days straight studying for the final in that endocrinology class I was telling you about.”

“Scott,” She gives him a worried look, "I know I’ve told you this before, but even though our medical disciplines are different, if you ever need any help on stuff like that, I’m sure I know a thing or two.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Scott grins, “I should really keep that in mind.”

“Anything else? Go to any fun parties? Get in any trouble? Meet anyone?”

Scott sighs, he knows his mom is anxious about the fact that he hasn’t really dated anyone since high school. Or rather, he hasn’t brought anyone home since high school. Since then, he’s only dated people briefly on campus, short stints that never warranted them needing to ever meet his mom. And she knew he wasn’t celibate between relationships either, she wasn’t naive, but she also wasn’t aware of his lakeside activities. Their relationship might be honest and open to a degree, but there were things she didn’t need to know.

“You know how it is right now, Mom. I’m just really focused on getting my degree,” His senior year was enough of a struggle, getting his grades up and trying to get accepted to the right universities, “I just don’t have time for another person right now.”

“I know Scott, I just don’t want you to be so single-minded that you miss out,” She smiles at him, “Maybe you’ll meet someone this summer.”

Scott looks down and blushes a bit, “Yeah, maybe.”

 

***

 

Truthfully, it had taken everything in Scott not to text Stiles immediately. His hand had fidgeted around his phone while he walked to his bike and he’d struggled not to type something out right there and then. Despite, well, everything, he was still afraid of appearing overeager.

In the back of his mind he knew that getting a phone number was a big deal. Even after going to the beach for as long as he had, there were only four, maybe five, numbers in his phone from the other guys there. Most guys that went there were more hungry to preserve their anonymity and cognitive separation than to create any lasting relationships. And Scott understood that, which is why he learned to never press the issue.

The thing was, Stiles had willingly given his number, even seemed keen to do it. When Scott scrolled through his contacts on his way through the woods, there was an added entry that said, “Stiles ;)” and it caused a smile to bloom across his face. Still, he waited until he was safely home, in his mom’s driveway, before he sent a text to Stiles to give him his number.

Stiles had texted back instantly, _About time ;D_

 

***

 

The next morning, Scott wakes up to three new texts from Stiles. He grins and stares blearily at them, obviously Stiles is an early-riser. Either that or he didn’t go to sleep the night before. Scott doesn’t understand how he does it. Even while college is in session, he tries to manage his time well so he feels well-rested rather than resorting to pulling all-nighters.

But talking to Stiles is really easy, mostly because Stiles does most of the talking. Scott now knows where Stiles stands on the DC vs Marvel issue (He respects the classic characters that DC’s created, but feels like Marvel is promoting and writing their characters better right now), which video games he likes (pretty much any FPS, although he’s getting into the Assassin’s Creed series), how much he loves his dad (A LOT, judging from how much he randomly inserts him into otherwise unrelated sentences, like _My favorite band is probably Fall Out Boy, but my dad has never really understood their music_ ), what his field of study is (criminal justice with a focus on computer science), and what his favorite food is (his mom’s meatloaf). Among other things.

Scott feels like he should be annoyed by how much Stiles talks, but instead he finds that he loves hearing the chirp notification from his phone every time he gets a text from Stiles. Not to mention that their constant communication only makes Scott even more excited to see him in person again.

When he goes downstairs, there’s still some lukewarm coffee leftover from when his mom went to work a few hours ago. He pours some into a mug and puts it into the microwave, taking out his phone to read Stiles’s texts while he waits. Unfortunately, it looks like Stiles is going to be there a little later than usual. Which is fine, actually, although Scott decides to try and make it there at his usual time. If nothing else, he can get a decent swim in before Stiles gets there.

After a quick breakfast and a response text to Stiles, Scott heads out that way, gut warm in anticipation. He relishes the feeling of the wind against his skin and billowing out his shirt as he races down the highway. The mid-morning sun feels especially soothing, radiating a temperature that he hopes sticks. By now, he barely notices the Porsche still parked in the same spot.

He does, however, notice how quiet the woods seem to be when he walks through them, barely even a rustle from around him. And on the beach itself, there’s a sort of somber overtone that he detects immediately. Everyone except Derek and Boyd are sitting decidedly apart from one another. It takes him a moment to realize that everyone is also fully-clothed, bathing suits pulled on completely, even shirts in some cases.

Confused, Scott heads straight to Deaton, where he’s huddled in his usual spot. Deaton has the usual expression on his face of barely restrained annoyance, but his eyes seem to brighten some when he sees Scott. He even scoots over a bit and gestures for Scott to sit down before the younger man can ask.

“So I assume you’ve noticed,” Deaton starts, looking straight ahead at the lake.

Scott furrows his brow, “Do you know why everyone’s acting strange? They seemed fine last night.”

Deaton nods, “There are some rumors going around that the police are sending a detective here. Probably today.”

“Oh,” Scott’s eyes widen, “That definitely explains the lack of nakedness.”

“I think everyone is a little understandably uneasy about it,” He clasps his hands together, “Of course, there’s also the fact that they’ve finally identified the body.”

Scott feels cold, “They did?”

“Yesterday afternoon. Turns out it was a young man from a wealthy family up the coast. His parents are offering a pretty large reward in exchange for information.”

“So, they don’t think it was an accident?”

Deaton shakes his head, “Apparently not. From what his parents say, he was a very accomplished swimmer. Never competed or anything in school, but skilled nonetheless.”

Scott tries for a smile, “Accidents like that can happen all the time, though.”

“When I saw his picture in the article, I realized that I recognized him,” Deaton turns to face him, finally, and raises an eyebrow, “I saw him with your new friend, right? Before the two of you were...you know.”

Scott laughs nervously, “Maybe, umm, I don’t really remember. I mean, you know why people come here, Deaton. Lots of people hook up with other people.”

“Hmm. Just seems an awful coincidence.”

“What does?”

Both Scott and Deaton turn to see Stiles’s standing above them, hands on his hips and a curious expression on his face. Scott doesn’t know how he didn’t hear him walking up, considering the relative stillness of the beach around them.

Deaton speaks first, “Just discussing the unfortunate drowning. Were you aware that they identified the victim?”

Stiles makes an exaggerated face and leans back, “I was not aware of that, as it happens. But uh. Do you mind if I steal Scott away from you? I’ve got some uh,” He licks his bottom lip, “Less depressing things to talk to him about.”

Deaton shrugs, “It’s fine, we can always talk another time.”

“Good, that’s what I was hoping for,” Stiles smirks in a way that Scott isn’t sure he likes.

He considers protesting for a moment - they’d only really begun their conversation, after all - but Deaton’s right, they can continue their conversation later. Besides, if the police really are sending someone there today, Scott wants some time with Stiles beforehand. After a beat or two with Stiles growing impatient in an obvious way, Scott stands up, grabs his things, and brushes himself off.

With one final, apologetic look at Deaton, he follows Stiles to a spot closer to the center of the beach. They both set their things on the warm sand and Stiles, with a cheshire grin, immediately laces their fingers together and starts pulling Scott towards the woods. Scott returns the expression and stumbles forward, letting himself be led.

Once they’re walking amongst the trees, Scott asks, “I thought you wanted to talk?”

“Well,” Stiles lets his gaze go up, as if he’s pondering the question over, “I did say ‘talk’, but that might have not been what I actually meant.”

“Oh really?” Scott raises an eyebrow.

Stiles takes them back into a more secluded area and pulls Scott against him, “Yeah, really.”

There’s already a beach towel lying on the dirt, like Stiles planned on taking him to this exact spot, but Scott doesn’t have the faculties in him at the moment to question it. Time seems to cease existing as they stand there, inches apart, just gazing at each other. There’s just enough of the late-afternoon sunshine passing through the leaves in the forest to highlight the golden amber tones in Stiles’s eyes, making Scott feel as if he’s being hypnotized. Then, slowly, Stiles’s eyelids begin to fall until he’s leaning forward and pressing their lips together with the slightest touch, as if he’s waiting for Scott to reciprocate.

Scott surges forward, running his hands up and down Stiles’s torso until his blunt nails find purchase and dig into the curve of his hipbone. He lets Stiles keep the pace steady, trying his best to stay in control when all he really wants to do is take Stiles apart. Instead, he loses himself in the feeling of Stiles’s plush lips pushing against his over and over again, their movement guided by the slick of their own spit, the slightest hint of tongue flicking against his top lip.

When Scott pulls their hips flush, Stiles tilts his head to whisper in his ear, “I want you to fuck me, Scotty.”

Air gets caught in Scott’s throat and he briefly wonders if he’s going to need his inhaler. Not that he’s not completely thrilled by Stiles’s words, he can feel his cock already throbbing just from the idea being planted in his head. It’s just that, well, a lot of things go on at the beach, but they’re mostly pretty softcore. Handjobs, blowjobs, rimjobs, other sorts of jobs, maybe some frottage, but actual fucking is usually considered taboo. There’s too many variables that a condom doesn’t always cover and most people aren’t willing to take the risk.

Scott hasn’t ever wanted to take the risk until now.

He sticks his bottom lip out, “I uhh...I don’t have any condoms. I left them in my bike,” Again.

Stiles licks up the shell of his ear then moves to tug on the lobe, “I’m alright with that,” He purrs out.

Scott flexes his fingers against Stiles’s torso, “You are? That...that’s okay? You don’t think it’s dangerous?”

“Scotty,” Stiles sighs and pulls back to face him, “I’m totally, 100%, absolutely, completely clean. I get tested every six months just in case. My last test was two months ago and there wasn’t a thing on there. So, if you tell me that you also have a clean bill of health, I’ll trust you if you trust me, deal?”

“Yeah,” Scott nods, “I’m...I’m clean. I got tested at school and I, usually, use protection. You know. For this sort of thing.”

“Okay,” Stiles grins again, “So then, I trust you’re telling me the truth,” He focuses his gaze on Scott, “Do you trust me?”

Scott’s mouth hangs open for far too long before he finally exhales out a long, “Yeah.”

The brief answer is apparently enough for Stiles, as Scott soon feels his long fingers tracing over his own before linking them together and pulling them both into a kneeling position. From there, Stiles removes Scott’s shirt effortlessly and tosses it aside, following with his own before Scott even registers that they’re both shirtless. Stiles runs his hands flat against the curves and muscles of Scott’s torso in reverence.

“You are,” Stiles’s eyes travel slowly from the hem of his shorts to the protruding bones of his clavicle, “Truly,” and back down, “A very nice specimen.”

Scott sucks on his bottom lip, “You’re not too bad on the eyes either.”

“Psh,” Stiles rolls his eyes, “I am just very lucky that there are people out there attracted to ‘pale and gangly’”

Scott reaches up to grab hold of one of his hands, causing Stiles’s gaze to drift up until their eyes meet. There is a lot on Stiles to admire, Scott can easily admit that. In his experience so far, Stiles doesn’t seem the type that fishes for compliments, which is why Scott wants to give them to him.

“There’s also some of us,” Scott starts, “That are attracted to clever, sarcastic guys with eyes that look brown but glow golden when the sunlight hits them and a gorgeous mouth that he typically uses for being witty, although he’s really skilled at using it for other things.”

Instead of arguing or replying, Stiles runs a hand up the back of Scott’s neck and lies back on the towel, spreading his knees and pulling Scott down between them. While Scott hovers over him, placing kisses sporadically across the freckles on his face, Stiles busies himself with the removal of their shorts. Stiles pulls something out of his first, but then they’re hastily discarded, kicked away by his long legs, and Scott finds his own pair following suit shortly thereafter, leaning up so he can pull them off the rest of the way.

Now completely bare with each other, Scott lowers until their thighs barely make contact, nosing along Stiles’s ridiculously sharp jawline and biting into the soft flesh beneath it. Stiles’s fingers dig into his shoulders, trying to pull him down completely. The bare brush of their flesh against each other when Stiles thrusts up against him is already making his head seem fuzzy, he’s not sure how’s he’s going to handle being inside the man beneath him.

One of Stiles’s hands moves away briefly, gone only long enough to grab something and press it into Scott’s hand. Even though he already had an idea of what it was based on the feel of it in his palm, Scott still pulled back and opened his hand to look at the foil packets. Scott briefly wonders what sort of stockpile Stiles keeps for this sort of thing.

Stiles chews on his bottom lip, “I have to admit, I’ve been thinking about you doing this all morning. And maybe most of last night. Actually yeah, pretty much all of last night. So uh...I’d really like for you to get started.”

“Oh! Yeah,” Scott smiles down at him, “I can do that.”

He sits up, placing the rest of the packets next to Stiles’s bent knee and ripping the remaining one open, inadvertently causing most of its contents to spill out onto his fingers. Hurriedly, he cups his hand to make sure the slippery liquid doesn’t run down his wrist, narrowing his eyes at Stiles with a smile when he hears the snickers beneath him.

Despite how it happens, his fingers are sufficiently coated when he moves his hand between Stiles’s cheeks. First he just slides them down Stiles’s flesh, slicking the entire area and focusing on teasing touches to the sensitive skin. Then he presses one finger against his soft opening, massaging the flesh until it starts to relax and let him in.

Opening Stiles up feels like something revelatory. Scott isn’t exactly new to this, he’s been in this same position before with different men, and even sometimes a woman, in Stiles’s position. He’s also been the one lying back with his mouth slack. But the way Stiles is canting his hips and spurting out obscene noises makes the situation feel different and new. Scott feels like he could get lost watching the flush blossom on the flexing muscles of Stiles’s chest. He hopes that he never forgets the way Stiles breathes out the phrase, “Fuck Scotty, I need more,” in a broken, husky voice.

Scott hovers over him as he lines himself up, letting the head of his cock rub against and catch against Stiles’s hole before finally pushing in. As ever, he slides in carefully, watching for any signs of discomfort or displeasure. He’s not prepared for Stiles greedily rocking his hips downward and pressing his heels into Scott’s back to encourage him to move faster.

Once he’s fully seated, his coarse hairs tickling against the underside of Stiles’s balls, he leans down to place placating kisses along Stiles’s chest, anywhere he can reach. There’s a jackrabbit in Stiles’s pulse and he doesn’t want to move until it calms down. In the end, Stiles moves one his legs until it hangs over Scott’s shoulder and squirms his hips around in an obvious request for Scott to get on with it.

So Scott braces himself, hitches Stiles’s hips up, and he does.

Although he will never admit it, Scott was absolutely the sort of teenager that sincerely believed his first time would be some magical, life-altering experience. Instead it was, as typically happens, overly planned, over too quickly, and full of apologies. He’s gotten better since then, as one does, and enjoys sex more now he has a realistic idea of what to expect, but there’s a part of him that still wants the type of ridiculous sex he was hyped up to believe in.

Right now, though, he finds himself getting lost in the little things. There’s a slight upturn to Stiles’s open, panting mouth. Occasionally words come out, but it’s mostly Scott’s name with varying differences. He can feel Stiles’s legs shifting and tightening around his torso, alternatively pulling and relaxing. And he can’t help but notice that all the moles on Stiles’s body seem to stand out darker against his flushed skin.

Scott shifts his weight so he can carefully move his hands to grasp Stiles’s and pull them over his head, pressing them into the damp leaves. His pace stutters a bit, but not enough to throw off his rhythm, and it’s worth it to see Stiles’s lean torso stretched out so taut, his legs twitching up higher on Scott’s sides as he fucks into him. He finds himself staring at Stiles’s wide-blown, dark pupils and the sweat gathering above his perfect cupid’s bow, and thinking - not for the first time - how obscenely gorgeous he is, although especially like this.

It’s been a really long time since Scott has had sex like this, open, unprotected, and he’s forgotten how many more sensations you’re able to feel. Not that he doesn’t understand the absolute importance of safe sex, but he also appreciates all the nerve endings in his dick brushing directly against the warm heat of Stiles without any barriers. Like this, he’s better able to feel when Stiles’s muscle start to tighten, increasing the pressure as he continues to pump in and out.

Then, Stiles tugs one of his hands free and locks their gaze together, jerking Scott down by his the scruff of his neck until their lips crash together, nearly painfully so as their teeth clink against the other. Scott is about to pull back and apologize when a whining, broken noise escapes Stiles’s mouth and vibrates across their joined lips. A beat later, he spills across their stomachs, twitching and tightening against Scott until he feels his own orgasm crest over him.

“On me, on me, Scott,” Stiles pants out.

Scott nods furiously, the thought of it enough to make him come at that second. He tries to compose himself, taking a deep breathe and gripping the base of his dick as he pulls out as quickly as he can, already missing being inside of Stiles. His cock is ridiculously sensitive by this point, dark red and swollen, it only takes his hand moving up and down a few times before his come is mixing in with the cooling jizz already spread across Stiles’s chest.

Groaning, his arms shake until he finally lets himself collapse on top of Stiles, rolling over immediately onto the forest floor. The sound of their loud breathing is all Scott can hear, any other noise in the forest effectively drowned out by any coming from the puffy pink lips beside him. Distantly, he can hear rustling in the leaves next to him and it takes him a second to realize that it’s Stiles looking for his hand, which he successfully finds after a few seconds of searching and clasps onto.

“That was,” Stiles lets out an exaggerated breath, “Pretty spectacular, dude.”

Scott grins, mindlessly looking at the leaves above them, “I don’t know if I can take all the credit.”

Overcome with elation, Scott looks over at Stiles, hopeful that he’s in a similar state. Stiles’s overly active mouth is relaxed, lips open while his eyes are hooded, unfocused. Scott finds himself mesmerized by the way Stiles’s free hand is rubbing through the mess on his torso, smearing come around and into his skin. Almost subconsciously, Scott shifts his body to bring his free hand over and join in, tracing patterns in the drying liquid.

He’s not sure how long they stay there, afternoon sun filtered through the trees and washing over their prone bodies. To be honest, he finds that he loses track of anything that doesn’t involve Stiles’s breathe in his ear and the press of his fingers intertwined with his own. It’s something, he knows it, and he’s hesitant to break it.

Slowly, though, the rest of the world creeps their way back in. Innocuous at first, birds tweeting as they fly through branches, squirrels rustling through the crisp dead leaves. Then, Scott feels their atmosphere shatter with the sound of whispering and footfalls off to their right. It makes him wish they were anywhere but lying on a dirty, forest floor. His face briefly falls as he sits up abruptly, although he turns his head away so Stiles won’t notice.

Still, even with their bubble burst, there’s still an air of importance as they get dressed together. Scott can’t help but smile as he watches Stiles, even if he ducks his head every time Stiles looks over at him. They bump into each other multiple times when they try to pull their shorts on, elbows and knees constantly brushing against limbs.

When they’re finally fully-clothed again, Stiles pulls Scott in for a slow, languorous kiss, more lazy tongue than anything else. It more than makes up for the fact that Scott can see the tops of other men’s heads just over Stiles’s shoulder. For the moment, his attention is snapped back to the weight of Stiles’s fingers on him and his mouth against him. It feels too soon when Stiles finally pulls back.

Their fingers are loosely linked together as they make their way back to the beach, this time walking more side by side. It takes Scott a moment to realize how light he feels, how he doesn’t feel like getting back to everyone else just yet and letting go of Stiles. He’s just about to bring up the idea of them leaving together when they very nearly bump into another person.

There’s a man in a police uniform - the real kind, not the sexy kind, although with the way this guy looks, it could easily go either way - stomping across the beaten path of the forest. He looks tired, and pensive, not at all paying attention when he nearly collides with the two of them. Scott reaches his free hand up to steady the other man, slightly unhappy when Stiles releases Scott’s other hand to cross his arms across his chest.

“Thanks,” the officer exhales, before straightening his uniform and letting his hands rest on his belt, “Since I have you two here, do you mind if I ask both of you a few questions?”

“No, that’s fine,” Scott blurts out.

“Great,” He smiles, “I’m Detective Parrish. Surely by now the two of you have heard about the drowning that happened here?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, “Such an unfortunate accident.”

Scott feels himself tense up. He’s glad that Stiles’s isn’t making contact with him so he can’t feel the change.

“Well we’re not sure it was an accident,” Parrish reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, unfolding it as he speaks, “Have either of you ever seen this man?”

It takes everything in Scott to control the shudder that wants to run through him. He instantly recognizes the smug face of the blonde man that Stiles had- that Stiles had been with before him. It’s an unnecessary confirmation, but one that he still didn’t want.

“I don’t think I recognize him,” Stiles sticks his bottom lip out and shrugs, “I mean, I’m still pretty new here, I haven’t met too many people.”

Scott’s eyes go wide, he hopes the detective doesn’t notice. He knows he has to say something, but his brain feels fuzzy.

“I, uh,” He starts, chancing a glance at Stiles, who’s raising an eyebrow at him in question, “I’ve only seen him a couple of times. We never really spoke though. Or...you know.”

“Hmm,” Parrish starts to fold the paper back up, “If it helps jog a few memories, his name is Jackson Whittemore and his parents are offering up a pretty hefty sum to find out what happened to him.”

“Oh,” Stiles smiles and lets out a snort, “Is that why you’re here? Trying to get a piece of that reward money?”

“I’m a detective,” is Parrish’s cold response, eyes narrowed.

“Whoa, feisty. I like you.”

“Right,” Parrish sighs, “So were you two...together...the day it happened?”

“No,” Stiles answers in a rush, “We hadn’t,” He runs his fingers along Scott’s shoulders until he can tug him closer, “Gotten together yet.”

“Oh. Right. So, if you don’t mind me asking, who were you with?”

“Uhh, some young guy, I don’t remember much about him to be honest,” Stiles smirks, “But I left around late afternoon.”

“Do you at least remember his name? Or what he looked like?”

“C’mon man,” Stiles gives him a condescending smile, “You know what this place is.”

“What about you,” He gestures towards Scott, “Who were you with, how late were you here?”

“Ummm, I was...I was here pretty late that night actually,” Scott wants to bite his own tongue off.

“Really,” Parrish raises his eyebrows, “So, did you see anything?”

Scott feels Stiles’s fingers tightening against his flesh, “No uh, I was kind of occupied at the time.”

“With someone that night? What about during the day, did you see Jackson then? Perhaps maybe see who he was with?”

“No I was, umm, occupied, all day.”

“With the same person?”

“Yeah.”

“So do you have any information about him? Name or anything?”

“Not really, I never asked.”

Parrish sighs and runs a hand down his face, “Let me get this straight, you’re with someone all day and you don’t try to learn any personal information about them.”

“You know what kind of place this is,” Scott’s voice isn’t as strong as he wants it to be.

“Wow. Any chance you know each other’s names?”

“Well yeah,” Stiles’s fingers tap against Scott, “This one’s special,” Stiles turns to him and smiles, all warmth like they’re still lying on dead leaves together and not being questioned by a police detective.

“Sure,” Parrish reaches into a small pocket in his belt, “Well if either of you think of anything else, here’s my card. I’ll also be here a few more days questioning people, so you’ll probably be able to find me here.”

Stiles gives him a wink, “Good to know.”

Detective Parrish presses his lips together and nods once before stepping past them to continue through the woods. They both shift their position to watch him disappear between the trees. Scott exhales a long breath, but instead of making him feel better, his chest just feels tighter. He doesn’t know how Stiles can act so benign about the whole thing, smiling and tapping out random patterns against Scott’s shoulder.

Stiles lets his arm slide down and across until they’re holding hands again. “So, that was fun. Can’t wait to see that guy again.”

He rolls his eyes and starts walking again, jerking a bit when Scott doesn’t follow. Obviously confused, he turns around with his eyebrows furrowed and mouth open with questions that haven’t been asked yet. Which seems fair, because Scott feels like he’s about to burst with all of the questions in his system that he needs to ask.

But now he feels like he’s choking on them, “I think I’m...going to head out. I’m not feeling too well.”

Stiles nods and releases his hand, “Okay, man, that’s cool. I understand. That was not a cool experience we just had.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Can I walk you to your bike?”

Scott just nods in answer, barely able to make eye contact. They don’t hold hands on the way out, barely touching at all, except for the occasional brush of Scott’s bare shoulder against Stiles’s covered one. It feels weird, and Scott is almost grateful when he stumbles on a root near the parking lot and Stiles places a hand flat against his lower back to steady him that he thankfully doesn’t remove until the vehicles are in view.

When they reach his bike, Scott leans against it, folding his arms across his chest, “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know why I feel so weird.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles brushes his knuckles against Scott’s bicep, “Like I said, not a cool experience.”

Scott purses his lips, worrying the bottom one, “Why don’t you come with me?”

“Huh?”

“Why don’t you come home with me,” Scott refrains from adding - ‘My mom won’t be home all day’ because he’s not in high school anymore, “We could still make this evening pretty cool.”

Stiles shakes his head, “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

“What? Why”

“Dude,” Stiles puts his hands on his hips and anxiously runs a tongue along his bottom lip, “I’m already texting you like, non-stop, and if we start hanging out together all the time to then...You’re going to get tired of me, Scott, alright? And I’m really not ready for you to be tired of me yet.”

“What? I’m not going to get-”

“Just, not yet, okay? This is nice. We have this and there’s still some level of separate-ness, I guess. I want you to look forward to seeing me, like it’s something special.”

“I still will, Stiles. That won’t change just because I make you breakfast.”

“You don’t know that,” He huffs and hastily adds, “I’m not saying never, okay? But not today. I just want us to have this for a little bit longer, this building of anticipation before we’re together.”

Scott sighs, “Okay, okay. I mean, if that’s what you want.”

Stiles smiles shyly, “I’ll text you, okay?”

“I know you will,” Scott smiles when he puts his helmet on, but it fades as soon as he leaves the parking lot and he can see Stiles in his rearview mirrors climbing into his own Jeep and leaving.


	6. Don't You Give Me Your Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah look, that frottage I've been promising in the tags...
> 
> And now the Boyd/Scott/Derek relationship isn't so implied :D

Scott’s night is especially restless. There’s a constant stream in his head, going over the events of the past week, begging him to do something about them. His fingers twitch by his side, itching to either grab the detective’s card on his nightstand or Scott’s cellphone sitting beside it.

The worst part is, he can still imagine Jackson’s drowning in perfect detail, as if it were happening right there in his room, right next to his closet door. Then it’s like his memory pauses right after Stiles leaves the water and starts drying off, focusing on his expressionless face, lips slightly parted. It’s always then that Scott decides to call Parrish, nearly lifting himself up to dial the number.

If his memories stopped there, he might have succeeded in calling Parrish by now. But they don’t, because he remembers in distinct detail what Stiles looks like when he comes, what his smirk looks like when he thinks he’s being clever, and what water droplets look like when they’re running down his damp chest. It’s superficial and wrong, he knows, but it makes him want to talk to Stiles before he does anything else.

Then, of course, he remembers Stiles leaving the beach right after he did, not content to leave  _ with _ Scott, but perfectly fine leaving on his own. Or maybe to meet up with someone else somewhere else. Although, really, Scott reminds himself that he  _ should _ feel better that Stiles left right after him, rather than going back to the beach and maybe hooking up with someone else. In any case, his thoughts are enough to prevent him from doing anything and instead he lies in bed, eyes on the ceiling but mind elsewhere, haunted by his own inaction.

He’s vaguely aware of the sound of his mom coming home from work then leaving again a few hours later. Then there’s the noise of his neighbors waking up for the day and heading to work. Eventually, around noon, he gives up any notion of actually getting any sleep and finally gets out of bed.

Mindlessly, he heads downstairs into the kitchen and makes a stack of pancakes that he barely tastes. There’s chocolate chips in them and everything, but they might as well just be stacks of dry bread. While he’s sipping some coffee that he barely bothered to heat up, he rationalizes to himself that if he feels this bad, there must be some sort of reasoning behind it.

That moment, he feels the war in his mind finally pick a side. His heart thunders as he races up the stairs and grabs Parrish’s card off his nightstand. He’s thumbing his phone unlocked when his eyes suddenly focus on the fact that he has over a dozen texts from Stiles that he’s been ignoring until now.

Against his better judgment, he opens them. The first one is an apology for being so weird, stating that Stiles is just really scared of screwing things up with Scott, that’s why he wants to take things (relatively) slow. There are a few more like that, a chain detailing just how much Stiles really likes Scott. After those is one of Stiles face, flushed, obviously post-orgasm. The caption tells Scott that Stiles had  _ really _ been thinking about Scott and couldn’t help himself.

Then there are some from this morning, asking if Scott’s okay, if he’s upset, if he’s alive. The last text is from just a few minutes ago, once again asking Scott if something is going on. It’s enough to make Scott change out of his sweats and into swimming trunks. He brushes his teeth quickly, Parrish’s card tucked safely away in his pocket but mostly forgotten.

When he gets to the beach, the parking lot is fairly empty. More vehicles than he’d seen yesterday, but still fewer than usual. The Porsche is finally gone, obviously taken by the police to search for any sort of evidence that might help in their investigation. Once Scott spots Stiles’s Jeep, that’s all he needs to jump off his bike and head into the forest.

However, once Scott’s feet hit the sand, his line of sight zeroes in on Deaton, once again sitting by himself, before he even looks for Stiles amongst the bodies sprawled along the beach. With little hesitation, he makes his way over to Deaton quickly, suddenly feeling a draw towards the older man.

Deaton gives him an appraising glance as he sits down, “Ah, there you are.”

Scott scoffs, “Am I really that late?”

“I was just worried the cop may have scared you away.”

“Oh, him? Nah,” Scott tries for an easy laugh, but fails, “I talked to him, but it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Really? That’s good then.”

Scott’s fingers fidget against his knees, “What if....what if it was a big deal?”

“Well that depends. Is it a big deal or not?” Deaton’s eyes narrow.

“Hey there, big guy.”

Scott twists to see Stiles standing just to his left, arms crossed over his chest, lake water dripping all over his bare shoulders and chest. One hip juts out to the side and his lips are pursed, waiting for Scott to answer him. Scott flounders a bit before finally finding his feet and standing up.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t see you here.”

“Whatever,” Stiles rolls his eyes, “It’s just...I’ve been waiting for awhile now.”

“Sorry, I just got a late start this morning.”

“Right. So can I have your attention now?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. Okay, uhh...I guess I’ll talk to you later, Deaton.”

Deaton gives him a somber nod and focuses his attention back on the lake, quiet in a way that only makes the situation more uncomfortable for Scott. He hesitates for a brief moment, before the clear annoyance in Stiles’s eyebrows tugs him upwards. Stiles grabs his towel and bag for him before marching away, clearly anticipating that Scott is going to follow him

Only a second after Stiles drops Scott’s stuff next to his own, he’s grabbing hold of Scott’s hand and pulling him towards the dense trees. He throws Scott a smile over his shoulder and it’s clearly a sort of placating measure, rather than an apology.

Annoyed, Scott stops in his tracks, tugging his hand away from Stiles’s grip and crossing his arms. When Stiles turns around, there’s a hint of irritation there that he hurriedly covers with confusion, like he doesn’t realize the effect his behavior is having on Scott. If anything, Scott feels like he should be the confused one.

Stiles steps closer to him and tries to press a hand against his face, “Hey, what’s wrong with you today? You don’t seem like you want to be around me,” He smiles hesitantly at Scott, in a way that almost seems threatening.

There is so much swimming in Scott’s head, he’s only able to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, “Why did you lie to that detective?”

“What?”

“Yesterday. When we were talking to the detective, he asked you if you knew Jackson. And you said no. Which...we both know is a lie.”

Stiles nods his head, “That’s right, you saw him with me.”

“The same day that he-”

“Are you worried that I feel that same...nonchalance with you?”

“No it’s just-”

“Jackson, or whatever his name was, meant nothing to me Scotty,” Stiles narrows his eyes, “He meant as much to me as any of the other guys I’ve had while I’ve been here,” He licks his bottom lip and pauses, “But you, you’re different, okay?”

Scott can’t help but scoff, “Really? I’m so different, but you don’t want to be around me outside of this place?”

Stiles huffs, “Just because I have reservations about  _ myself _ doesn’t mean I don’t really, really like you.”

“What does it mean, then?”

“Do you think,” Stiles steps closer, close enough that their noses nearly touch, “That I talk to everyone I meet here the same way I talk to you? That I spend as much time with the guys I meet here as I have with you?”

“How am I supposed to know the answer to that,” He can’t help the doubt clouding his face.

“Well when you figure it out,” Stiles sneers, “Fucking come find me.”

Without waiting for a reply, Stiles leaves without a second glance, disappearing through the trees. Watching him go makes Scott feel unexpectedly shaky and unstable. He leans against the nearest tree for balance before letting himself sink against it until his butt hits the damp forest floor. He doesn’t know how he feels about the exchange that just happens and he hates himself for it. Mostly, he hates himself for feeling so emotionally compromised, so unfocused.

It takes him a moment to realize that he’s hyperventilating, breaths much more shallow than they should be. He groans when he remembers that his inhaler is in his bike, however far away, and it’s going to be a struggle to get to it when he’s like this. Instead, he scrunches his eyes shut, trying to steady his breathing on his own; he’s done it before in similar situations, with mixed results, but right now it’s his own option. His fingers clench against the damp dirt and leaves as he tries to anchor himself to the ground beneath him, it’s always easier if he feels centered.

He gasps when a hand grabs onto his shoulder and his eyes fly open, expecting to see Stiles in front of him, earnest and apologetic. Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of twin worried expressions on Derek and Boyd’s faces. Derek turns his head to say something to Boyd that Scott can barely make out and Boyd disappears out of Scott’s line of vision, leaving only Derek cradling his face and speaking to him slowly.

“Scott, can you hear me?”

It sounds like Derek’s underwater, but Scott nods anyway.

“Okay, I need you to listen to me, okay? When I hold up one finger I need you to breathe deep in your nose, then when I have two fingers up I need you to exhale out your mouth, okay? Are you able to do that for me?”

Scott nods again, just as Derek moves one of his hands to help Scott sit more upright.

He focuses his attention on Derek’s hands and at first it’s a struggle to follow Derek’s directions, but it starts to become easier just as Boyd reappears, carrying his inhaler. Boyd hands it to him immediately and Scott grasps it in both hands, relieved to feel the burning sensation in his lungs go away as the medicine soothes his chest. After a few pumps  he can feel himself breathing like normal again.

Derek and Boyd sit on either side of him, like a safety net just in case another attack happens. For awhile, they just sit with him, arms crossed and gently resting on their knees, until finally Scott feels alright enough to talk.

“Thanks guys, you two are officially my heroes.”

Derek shifts to rub small circles on his lower back, “Do you know what triggered it? You had us pretty scared for a moment there.”

Scott hates lying, but he’s also not ready to talk to them about the whole Stiles situation either, “Who knows,” He shrugs, “Sometimes they just come out of nowhere.”

Boyd gently nudges him, “I’m just glad we were able to help.”

“What were you guys doing out here anyway?”

Derek gives him a gentle, pointed look, “I...think that should be obvious.”

“Oh,” Scott’s eyes widen, “Oh shit guys, I’m so sorry if I ruined it. I can totally leave if you guys want to...”

“It’s okay,” Boyd places a hand on his shoulder, “It’s not like right now is going to be our only opportunity today. Besides, I’m kinda feeling like going for a swim right now, are you feeling up to coming with?”

“Yeah,” Scott mindlessly nods, “I could definitely be down for that, if you guys are already with me joining.”

“When have we ever minded you joining in?” Derek smirks at him as they stand up together.

The gesture makes Scott realize why he enjoys the company of Derek and Boyd so much. It’s easy, companionable. If he told them today that he wanted to go home with them every night for the rest of the summer, they’d love it. But if he told them instead that he only saw them as friends and never wanted to touch either of their dicks again, they’d be similarly alright.

Their type of easy camaraderie is exactly what he needs after having to watch Stiles storm away from him, and he decides to allow himself some casual pleasure. Especially since he doesn’t see Stiles anywhere. It’s far too easy to enjoy the feeling of Boyd’s mouth on his and relax in Boyd’s arms lifting him in the water, encouraging Scott to wrap his legs around his waist. Derek places small bites on his shoulder muscles while gliding his hands all along Scott and Boyd’s skin, the lake water nearly eliminating any friction.

Scott doesn’t let it progress from there, he knows that he’s still too caught up in Stiles to let himself really let go with someone else. Part of him hates it, because he’s very aware of how effortless it would be to accept the offer that Derek and Boyd are giving him. Every other part of his consciousness, though, is still so hung up on Stiles that he scares himself.

His skin is long past looking pruney when he finally sloshes out of the lake, followed by Derek and Boyd. They walk with him through the forest and in the back of his mind he starts to wonder exactly where Stiles is, a niggling thought harassing him that Stiles probably found someone else to spend his time with. Someone who doesn’t ask as many questions. Scott tries to brush the thought away, but it stubbornly stays.

When they reach the parking lot, Scott’s eyes immediately land on the police cruiser sitting there, and Detective Parrish leaning against it. When the detective spots Scott, he  stands up straight and starts walking towards them.

“Evening guys,” Parrish calls out to them.

Derek looks confused, “Is there a problem officer?”

“Hopefully not,” He grins, “I just need to talk to Scott real quick. Won’t take but a moment.”

The two of them start to protest before Scott shushes them, “It’s alright guys, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Boyd gives him another worried look, “You sure you’ll be okay?”

Scott nods, “It’s cool, I want to help with the investigation any way I can.”

Parrish waits until the other two leave before speaking, “Thanks for agreeing to chat with me, Scott.”

Scott gives him a casual grin, “Did I have a choice?”

Parrish returns the expression, “Honestly? Not really.”

“Well then I’m glad I agreed, too.”

“I’ve really only got a few questions for you. I meant it when I said it wouldn’t take long.”

Scott crosses his arms, “Okay, shoot, I guess.”

“Alright,” Parrish pulls out a notebook, “When I spoke with you before, you mentioned that you were with someone the day Jackson drowned, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I spoke to someone that remembered...an encounter...with you that day. But he says that you two went your separate ways pretty much right afterward.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. So do you mind filling me in on the rest of your activities?”

Scott gnaws on his bottom lip, struggling, “I...uhh...I met up with someone else after that guy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Some dude I’d never seen before. Young guy. Of age, obviously. But younger. Than the other guy.”

“Uh huh. Why didn’t you mention this guy before?”

Scott tries to shrug nonchalantly, “Stiles was with me last time, and I didn’t want him to know that, y’know, I’d kinda seen with two guys at separate times in one day. Not exactly something you want someone to know about you in the beginning of a relationship. Not that we necessarily have a relationship, I think. I’m not sure yet. But still, you get the idea.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. So I guess you still didn’t see anything that night?”

Scott shakes his head, “Not a thing. I’m sorry that I can’t be more help.”

Parrish exhales loudly, “Right. Well. You still have my card, if you can think of anything else.”

“Yeah,” The grin is back, “No worries. If I think of something I’ll call you.

“Please do,” Parrish gives him a piercing look before heading back to his patrol car and leaving.

Scott stands stockstill watching him leave, trying to ignore the growing uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. He presses his lips together harshly, worried that he’ll shout out to Parrish if he doesn’t. There’s a slight pain in his palms from his short nails digging into the soft flesh, but he tries to ignore it. What catches his attention is a rustling in the trees to his right. He turns his head just in the right moment to see Stiles, looking flushed yet relaxed, come into sight.

He looks at Scott and smiles, “You know, I had my doubts.”

“Wait...what?”

Stiles brushes his arm with his fingertips, “I really was starting to believe that you didn’t like me that much. And I’m sorry.”

“Of course I like you, Stiles,” Scott hopes his confusion isn’t apparent on his face.

“You like me,” Stiles smiles and moves his hand to the side of Scott’s face, “I never really knew for sure but now I finally have proof.”

“Well yeah, of course I do, but I-”

“Come home with me.”

“I....what?”

“Come home with me,” Stiles brushes a strand of hair out of Scott’s face, “I’ve got my own little place not far from here. You could follow me there if you wanted.”

“Umm, yeah, yeah, I could do that.”

“Great, I’ll try not to go too fast,” He winks, “See you in a bit.”

The whole conversation is over before Scott even realizes it, and he finds himself on autopilot, slipping his helmet on, climbing onto his bike, waiting until he sees the lights on Stiles’s Jeep turn on before he cranks the engine. The ride to Stiles’s apartment feels nearly weightless, like someone else is driving the bike while Scott observes.

Stiles throws him a grin when they park side by side in Stiles’s apartment complex and he nearly falls off of his bike. He saves himself just in time to keep Stiles from noticing, he hopes, and follows the lanky figure as he hops up the metal steps and goes through the first door on his right.

"I have to admit," Stiles calls out behind him, "I was a little bit jealous back there for a moment."

"What?"

"With those other two guys," Stiles twists to look at him, "Derek and Boyd, right? At the lake."

Scott freezes, "They're just friends."

"They looked like  _really_ good friends."

"It was, honestly, nothing. They're friends that I've fooled around with in the past. If you want us to be exclusive, just say so."

"It's okay," Stiles smiles at him and pulls him into the apartment, "You came here with me, that means everything. But," He pauses, "I would, really like that."

Scott squeezes his hand, "Me too."

His first impression of Stiles’s apartment makes him smirk, there’s four bookcases covering most of the walls, all full with books. Then there are stacks of books in front of the those and lying on a majority of the lumpy, oatmeal colored couch. In a strange way, Scott finds it endearingly charming.

“So, I’m guessing you read a lot?” Scott asks.

Stiles turns his head a laughs, “Uh, yeah, you could say that,” He rubs the back of his neck, “You probably wouldn’t find most of those too interesting. It’s a lot of folklore stuff mixed up with some ‘true crime’ stories and police procedurals.”

“That’s an interesting blend.”

“Well, my dad’s a cop,” He loosely gestures to the photos hanging on the wall of him with his arm around an older man in a police uniform, “And I figure it might be a good career choice for me someday, and uh...I just really like learning out old folky stuff. Y’know, selkies and shapeshifters, stuff like that.”

“I like it, that’s kinda cool. I’d love to hear you talk about it sometime.”

“Maybe some other time, but right now,” Stiles reaches out to grab hold of Scott’s hand, “I was hoping we could skip past the whole ‘Chill on the couch, have a drink and chat’ thing, and I could just lead you straight to my bedroom.”

“Umm....uh yeah, yeah I think I could be alright with that.”

Stiles smiles as he walks backwards, dragging Scott along with him, through the living room, down the hallway, and into another room just as messy as Scott should have expected. He supposes that it could be called a bedroom, considering there’s a bed in it, but the floor and desk are so covered in papers and clothes that it looks more like a storage room than anything else.

They carefully make their way to the fluffy bed in the center of the chaos, Stiles pulling back the comforter and pulling Scott into an embrace right before they tumble on it. The removal of clothes is over nearly too quickly, Stiles pawing at Scott’s shirt and shorts like he finds them personally offensive. Although, Scott finds that he doesn’t mind that much, since it means he’s able to feel Stiles’s skin against his own.

Their lips slide messily together while Stiles adjusts them until Scott is lying flat on the bed and Stiles is straddling them. Scott runs his hands up Stiles’s back and sides, letting his fingers play along the pale skin. It feels like it’s been far too long since he’s had Stiles’s mouth on his, dragging their lips together and wetting them with his tongue.

Stiles threads their fingers together and shifts to pull Scott’s above his head, pressing them against the headboard until Scott gets the idea to grip the headboard himself. Then, Stiles slowly runs his hands down Scott’s arms until he reaches the warming skin of his chest and abdomen. Slowly, leisurely, he sits up as he makes his way down Scott’s body, a thin trail of spit following him when he finally releases his contact with Scott’s mouth.

When he’s sitting up, he gives Scott a dazed look, “There’s something I want to try, if you’re into it.”

“Yeah, sure...what is it?” Scott starts to shift his arms to sit up.

Stiles shoots a hand out to stop him, “No, no no, stay like that. If you’re okay with it.”

After a beat, Scott moves his hands back and stretches out, “Depends on what we’re doing, but I can be okay with it.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles seems to take a moment to resettle himself, “I’ve kinda always wanted to do this, but you’re the first person I’ve ever met that I’ve wanted to do it with.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I....would it be alright if I just demonstrated?”

“Um, um yeah, okay.”

“Just...say something if you don’t like it, okay?”

Scott nods in agreement, which seems to be all the approval Stiles needs. He leans up, firmly straddling Scott’s thighs, and moves his hand over Scott’s dick, lightly grabbing it and running his hands along it a few times, enough pressure to make Scott buck his hips, needing more. Stiles reaches over, grabbing the bottle of lube already sitting on the nightstand and pours it into his palm. Gingerly, Stiles pulls his foreskin back, revealing the glistening head of his cock, then brings their tips together. Scott arches his back at the graze of contact.

Mouth hanging open, Stiles gives Scott a brief wink, then slides his foreskin over their joined cocks. Scott grunts and tightens his grip on the headboard, his eyes hooded and stuck on Stiles’s hand moving between them. The sensation is amazing, better than he could have imagined, not that he’s ever even imagined something like this.

He rolls his hips, trying to move with the pace Stiles has set, until Stiles presses his free hand firmly on Scott’s abdomen. Scott huffs his frustration, but Stiles chooses that moment to lean back and capture Scott’s lips with his own, flicking his tongue along the inside of his mouth. Needy, Scott tips up to deepen their kiss, relishing in the feel of Stiles’s plush lips grazing hungrily against his own.

“You good?” Stiles gasps out, moving his lips slightly away.

Scott sucks in his bottom lip, chasing the taste of Stiles, and nods.

The brief answer is apparently all Stiles needs and he sits back up, giving Scott a full view of his flushed his neck and chest. He can feel the heat growing in the base of his gut and all the nerves in his body not connected to where Stiles’s hand is stroking his dick seem to numb. His nails tighten against the lacquered wood and he bites his lip until it bleeds as the endorphins rush over him.

Everything in him tightens and he practically snarls as he comes, spilling out over Stiles’s hand and mixing in with the fluid already coating their cocks. Stiles’s eyes are dark and locked on Scott’s panting body, it only takes a few more strokes of his hand before his come joins Scott’s, thickly coating their reddened skin.

Stiles collapses on the bed beside Scott and pries his hands off the headboard before curling himself around Scott’s prone body. He nuzzles into Scott’s chest, pressing shallow kisses on the cooling skin. Scott rests his arm against Stiles’s back and pulls him close, effectively sealing them together once the come dries on their bodies, but right now he can’t bring himself to care.


End file.
